heavenly choir

These little card and paper Christmas angels made by local primary school children adorn the windows at Burton Agnes Hall...they're so cute!

Morning mist

Ethereal morning
Steeped in stillness.
Wraithe like fingers of whiteness
Sweep the countryside
Hiding fields and dulling sound.
Half formed trees
Poke there canopies high above the milky whiteness of the
Beautiful stealthily moving mist,
Silhouetted against the leaden sky.

raindrops on the window pane

                                           fantasy


                                           irregular orb
                                            mystical mauve
                                             water droplet
                                             rain on the window
                                            irridescent glow
                                          soft blurr bokeh
                                          

Splendour

                                            She's coming!
                            

                                           Autumn's coming, she's on her way
                                           Changing colours every day.
                                           The myriad greens are now replaced
                                           In reds and golds with yellow laced.
                                           She steals fleet winged across the land
                                           Exploding colour, as she's planned
                                           To change the world to Autumn's sheen.
                                           A wondrous sight for us to glean
                                           To garner in for dark still days
                                           To fill our mind with Nature's ways.
                                           When lying in contemplative thrall
                                           In a blink of an eye we can recall
                                           And bring the Autumn colour to mind
                                           To delight again the inward eye.

twilight

                                             twilight
                                              perfection of imperfect enlightenment
                                               light and dark
                                                 the real and the reflection
                                                  glorious
                                                   beautiful
                                                     shadowland

swallow song

swallows on a wire


preening, twittering notes
a skyward sheet of musical birds
a cachophany of sound
I wish I could read music
I'd like to hear the tune they'd make before they're Africa bound

astrantia

astrantia
beautiful bloom
delicate green tipped paperwhite petals converge to cerise bases
rosy pink stamens open into tiny florets
beckoning insects to enter your portals of delight
beautiful bloom
astrantia

awesome nature

On a day out at Whitby everyone seemed fascinated by the power of the sea.


Power by Martha-Ann

Mother Nature's awesome power, enchanting young and old
Draws us ever nearer, the hapless and the bold.
Unremitting wind and spray, unbridled saltiness
Catching at our senses, inspiring wariness.
She draws us ever nearer to feel her waking passion
As on the shore her waves apound she keeps white horses crashing.
With reverential fear we watch as she grips us in her hold.

the pollinator by martha-ann

the pollinator, a photo by Martha-Ann48 on Flickr.

Buzzing busily from flower to flower.
Gossamer wings whirring softly.
Saddlebags bulging with golden pollen.
Carefully stowing the life giving bounty.

the tryst

hoverfly on ligularia


Vibrant shades of yellow
Reflecting sunshine colours
Sipping nectar
Clear glass wings
Hovering on the air.


Yellow petals unfurl
Emerging from the opening bud
stretching to the sun
Perfect symetry
Nature in unison.

Insect and flower
A lovers tryst.

Hummingbird Hawk Moth

Hummingbird Hawk Moth

Chipping & whipping from blossom to blossom
Constantly dipping, the nectar to sip.
Little brown moth with your whirring wing beat
Humming and hovering you hang on the air.
Wings all ablur, your proboscus you dip
Riding the breeze with never a care.
Regular as clockwork, every two hours
To take your refreshment from nectar filled flowers.

the path

Glimpse at Jackson's Wold Farm


Shaved meadow grasses invite you to walk to the glimpse at the end of the way
Skirting the geese that eternally peck at the greenery throughout the day.
Rusty and brown, created from wire they beckon you ever more near
To see how the sculptor has fashioned this beautiful pair, you can walk by without any fear.

Grasses arustle dance and sway with the breeze
Big white dog daisies are buzzing with bees.
To sit on the bench, what a treat when the weather's so hot
To find a cool haven under the beech leaves, it's really a beautiful spot.

Gaze back down the ride as you sit and relax and think of the tearoom, so cool
Where a nice hunk of cake and a coffee are waiting.....
Oh! please, you're making me drool!!

Cygnets ahoy!

Mute swan cygnets at Kings Mill


Six little cygnets swimming to and fro
Soft and grey and downy, always on the go
Mother sails majestically
Fathers guarding too
Bunching up together just like he wants them too.
Emulating parents, heads beneath the flow
Six little cygnets always on the go.

Mother Nature's Handiwork

Mother Nature's handiwork I gaze,
Bees lolling drowsily through the summer days.
Droning busily they hum
Portents of bounties yet to come.
The barley ripening in the fields
Farmers eagerly await their yields.
Patchwork quilt of earthy hues,
Cloudy skies of myriad blues.
A rich and varied artist she
Paints from her palette for all to see.
Greens, browns and golds her harvest key
With added blues of textured skies
A masterpiece before our eyes.

cochin haiku

cochin cockerel


pretty buffy grey
scarlet comb upon your head
cochin walks away

clucky chuntering
scrabbling in the dirt filled grooves
happily scratching

pretty feathered feet
scritchy scratchy claws find food
sharp beak pecks it up

feathery plumage
softly ruffled in the breeze
see the colours play

sharp eyed strong and quick
magnificent cockerel king
of all you survey

marvelous malas

Malas blossom

We went to the Hull New Theatre matinee performance of Calendar Girls, I really enjoyed it. It was as good if not better than the film, different but brilliant.
When we eventually found a place to park and walked into Kingston Square the theatre doors were still closed and the garden was awash with people.
The spring sunshine was warm and the borders were full of colour.
Tulips, wallflowers, forget-me-nots, crown imperials, anemones, palms and jasmine all vying for a place.
The Malas Floribunda, or Japanese Crab Apple trees were magnificent. Their rich almost maroony pink blossom stood proud against a bright blue sky....I was almost sorry when it was time to go in!!

Whitby Goth Festival week-end

The Whitby Goth Festiival was held last week-end. Whitby has become the Goth capital of England over the last few years but I've never been able to take photographs before. This year I decided I'd just ask anyone who I wanted to take and go with the flow. Everyone was really nice, happy to pose and talk and I got some good shots. This is just a couple of them. It was the last day of the festival and they were parading up and down and wonderful to see. I was told there are many types of Goths but my pictures were mostly Traditional or Romantic.

Quackers....

Unlike the old woman who lived in a shoe and had so many children she didn't know what to do this mallard, mother of seventeen puffy little fluffball ducklings knew exactly what to do when they were attacked by a mute swan.
She ushered them all up on to the safety of the bank side encouraging them to settle down there whilst hurling occasional abusive quacks at the hissing cob swan.
He eventually swam off leaving the family in peace.

Mum mallard and a trio of her ducklings

rockery

I finally finished planting up the rockery with the plants I have,
I still need a few more to plug the odd gaps but I'm pleased with
the overall effect of re-designing it and the waterfall.
Just need to keep that blasted cat from next door off it now!

weeping

Majestic willow why do you weep?

Your delicate fronds, like angels hair, reflect the sunlight from their new green growth and flutter gently in the wafting breeze.

Your beauty's unsurpassed.

forget-me-nots

The same forget-me-nots after I played about with the colours

forget-me-nots

Delicate tiny flowers of the forget-me-not smiling out amid the green foliage

spring

Spring has finally got her act together and produced a mass of colour in the garden. This collage shows just a small portion.

The cherry tree has come into it's own over the last couple of days, luxuriously hung with delicate cascades of soft pink blossom it's awash with bees buzzing from flower to flower. I love to sit on the bench by the pond, it's just underneath the cherry, listening to their hum and watching the fish gliding through the water, flashing glints of silver, gold and orange. The frogs are still singing love songs and adorning the plants with clumps of spawn.

The magnolia has opened it's delicate pink tinged buds displaying it's white blooms for the sun and closing them again in the shade of evening, daffodils and tulips are vying for a space in the borders and the grape hyacinths are a carpet of blue.
The bleeding heart stems are arching delicately, covered in tight red buds just waiting to burst forth and the snakes head fritilaries are bowing their checkered heads and swaying gently on their spindly stalks which always look too delicate to support them.
Hosta's are popping their tightly twisted budding leaves through the brown soil and the peony shoots have turned from red to green.....

Bees buzz, butterflies cruise and spotty red ladybirds are waking from sleep....

An abundance of growth and colour, just a small snapshot of Mother Nature's diversity albeit she was hampered a little by Winter this year.

blurry

This picture didn't quite come out right but I love the effect with the bluey softness.

We walked the new ponds and woodland trails at Tophill Low Nature Reserve, it was cold and bleak with an intermittent watery sunshine but we saw lots of little birds in amongst the pine trees. Goldfinch and chaffinch flitted here and there and the happily singing bluetits worked the branches.
Squirrels revelled in their playful games, running up and down the tree trunks with fiendish glee and pheasants pecked in the undergrowth disappearing in a flash as soon as they saw us.
Snowdrops adorned the underbrush and myriads of small flies seemed to twinkle as they gathered in the warm sunlight shafts above the water.
Crispy dried flowerheads looked like spidery mutants against the blue sky and the ponds reflected their bankside trees.
A pair of waterhens swam lazily, occasionally dipping their heads into the water to feed.
There's a new hide too which smelled wonderful...that just sawn resin smell of new wood...and warm and welcoming in the cold wind.

Home

Peter Jaconelli of the famous icecream family always said Scarborough Bay reminded him of the Bay of Naples, his home. Well Scarborough was my birthplace and though I've never been to Naples and I don't live in Scarborough now, it'll always continue be my spiritual home.

Scarborough:

Hearts desire, my yearning for home
Watching & waiting & longing to roam.
Scrunching the sand with each hallowed footfall
Seabirds a scrying, surveying us all.
Looking up to the castle silhouetted in black
I'm back in my heartland but it's hard to keep track.
The view is the same, the sea & the shore
Lifting my senses, promising more.
With the castle & keep, the lighthouse stands proud,
The gaudy amusements with music so loud.
It still seems much the same as the days of my youth
But it's different as well...more brash & uncouth.
But my heart always yearns for a look back to home
Wherever I wander, wherever I roam
My heart always knows that Scarborough's my home.

carpeted by Martha-Ann

We visited Burton Agnes Hall for the snowdrop walk.
We go every year and always enjoy it.
It was a cold day but fine and the threatened snow hadn't arrived so we had a good view of the snowdrops. We strolled through the woodland and around the walled garden ending up in the tearoom for a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

filigree by Martha-Ann

delicate lace design
a gossamer of crocheted mesh
complex latticed veins
orange beauty turned to
winter's fragile filigree

...I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight by Martha-Ann

The snowy rape field was full of hungry wood pigeons which rose up in a giant flock of rushing wings to circle above the field before dropping down again.
This is just a snapshot of the few, there were hundreds of them like a dark cloud meandering across the beautiful blue sky.

heralds of spring by Martha-Ann

these have appeared in the rockery today.


In the middle of winter the first shoot appears
Lancing the ground like tiny green spears.
Daily they're growing pushing up through the mud
And safe in the middle a delicate bud.
The stalk elongates, the bud bows, so polite
To hang almost shyly 'til the time is just right
For the flower to open, so white and pristine,
The edges are picoted a delicate green.
Blown by the north wind they curtsy and dance.
The herald of springtime, the snowdrops all prance

delicate by Martha-Ann

Mother nature weaves her web as evening shadows fall
The blue-grey sky adjusts her tone as change comes over all.
Delicate shades with orange hue cover o'er the sky
As sunsets paints her palette there to dazzle every eye.

Happy New Year 2010 from Martha-Ann

Happy 2010
A bit late I know but better late than never...

The weather has been different to say the least, all this snow reminds me of when I was about fifteen and it snowed worse than we've had this year....and it lasted longer.
Nobody took time off work or school, we just got on with it!

I remember my dad setting off for work with snow up somewhere round his middle, he was so bundled up with clothes my mother said he looked like 'Nanook of the North', he had about three miles to walk!

Us kids walked a couple of miles to school in it too...we got a hot drink when we got there and the radiators steamed all morning with wet clothes...I can still recall the smell..and we put them back on either still wet or damp for playtimes and home time!!
They were squat radiators, about eighteen inches high and the same width. We sat on them like warm seats, no health and safety then.
Fingers, toes and knees turned bright red and tingled as they thawed but we were back out playing in it when they had...Happy days!

winter by Martha-Ann

Glistening, glinting in the sun like diamonds, the crystal snowflakes fall.
The seven sided works of art combine to make the scene
Where children wrapped in warmth contrive to build a snowman on the village green.

Crisp and frosty branches raised, a filgree of light. The watery drips are turned to ice and varied daglets hang.
The brisk fresh air transforms the breath into a puff of steam
Whilst sunlight glints on snowy wastes reflect a rainbow's beam.

Seasons Greetings from Martha-Ann

Hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and a very Happy and Prosperous New Year

morning light by Martha-Ann

Last evening when I went to bed the moon was clear and bright
The stars peeped down atwinkling within the velvet night.
At sunrise when I woke and rose, the curtains opening wide,
The window panes were pearl, opaque, I couldn't see outside.

A tracery of leafy shapes the window panes adorn
Jack frost had been and drawn then there then vanished with the dawn.
Each window pane's a beauteous sight
Of ferns and leaves and diffused light.
His ice creations, fragile patterns, delicate, a filament of grace,
Filligrees of snowy white, intricate as lace.

I've been to many galleries the paintings there to see
By famous artists, world renowned for their expertise
But Jack Frost surely must compare with every one of these..

christmas trees by Martha-Ann

re-cycled pleated pyramids of written words
narrative cones adorned with golden stars
effective simplicity from a Jilly Cooper paperback!

where's the food? by Martha-Ann

Three little dickie birds sitting in a row
Waiting for breakfast and squabbling so!

ambrosia by Martha-Ann

juicy
crisp orbs
of purple red
little sacs of sweetness
bluish bloom upon your cheek
mouth wateringly gorgeous treat
bunches hanging temptingly
for me
Mmmmm!

remembrance

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

reflection by Martha-Ann

We walked along beside the shore
the sun cast silvery sparkles across the sea
an open fan of diamond glints
impatient on the wind ruffled surface of the waves
that twitched with every breath of air
painted prisms of perfection


Contemplation by Martha-Ann

He stood alone gazing outwards from the shore
contemplating some silent thought
his face was wreathed in sunlight
it glinted on his auburn hair raising a coppery glow
to cross his wistful countenance

passion flower by Martha-Ann

stylish beauty luminous in Novembers drear weaving the story of our lord

five petals and five sepals the ten apostles who loved you
the two missing are Peter who denied you and Judas who betrayed you

filaments of the corona represent the thorns of your rough crown
three pistil stigmas the nails you bravely bore
five stamens the wounds upon your broken body
the leaf lobes shape the lance that pierced your side

spotted leaves betray the silver Judas received
flowers closing after just one day...the time you spent upon the cross
they fold their petals over the ovary to represent you in your tomb

Sweet passionflower the symbol of our faith

winter visitors by Martha-Ann

Fieldfares, cousins of our native thrush,
Come homing in on a silent rush
Of wings, to settle in the hawthorne hedge
And gorge on berries plump and red.

The gauntlet of the gulls outrun
Exhausted birds are almost done.
Mid noisy, straggling, chuckling flocks
They swoop and wheel across the docks.

The Russian winter borne no more,
The long, long journey to our shore
Forgotten as with breath a-bating
They find the feast is laid and waiting.

Flights of hundreds can be seen
An age old part of our winter scene.

storm by Martha-Ann

Dark and brooding storm clouds gather
Scudding o'er the storm lashed sky
Screeching winds buffet the landscape
Leaves and twigs go whistling by
Raindrops once that pattered slowly
Ever faster deluge down
Inkblot patterns merge together
Soaking in the parched hard ground


Perturbation by Martha-Ann

Rooks strut the straight brown furrows
probing with soil bedecked beaks
searching for grub or beetle
then rise like one majestic creature
flying into the keening wind
to head for the shelter of their pine tree roosts

leaden clouds scud impatiently across the darkening sky
as rain drops begin to pitter on the bare earth

trees lean from an ever increasing wind
as the last of the autumn leaves
are stripped from their precarious hold of the bare branches

glistered raindrops burnish beech twigs
ephemeral beauty destroyed by the fierce wind

surf by Martha-Ann

White horses gallop ever shoreward
Prancing, dancing moving forward
To break and spume against the shingle
Stones, foam and bubbles all a-mingle
Shushing, sighing, bubbling home
Shining water, swirling foam
Crashing in no more to roam.

a brooding sky

The weather has changed over the last few days, it's cold and windy with showers every now and again. Proper dowly as we say in Yorkshire. This dark sky looked dramatic before the rain and a small single seater aircraft seems dwarfed by the enormity of it all.



Dowly by Martha-Ann

Dark
Brooding
Clouds
Majesty before the storm...

the softness of autumn

blurry
Originally uploaded by Martha-Ann48

This picture is a bit blurry or soft but I think it makes a nice statement. The horse chestnut leaves are just beginning to turn and the mere in the background adds an ethereal air.


Warp & weft by Martha-Ann

Rich earthy coloured hues
Crisp brown outline, golden centres, tips of green
The softness of the blues
Create a peaceful scene.
Autumn is upon us with her ever changing mood
Frolicing winds whisk capricious leaves
To dance like fairies in the salubrious wood
As autumn splendour weaves.

royal velvet by Martha-Ann

'royal velvet'
Originally uploaded by Martha-Ann48

blossom tossed on the keening wind
rich and vibrant shades
an open maw with tentacles protruding like some rare cephalopod
pollen bedecked stamens
golden stigma
fuschia...

autumn by Martha-Ann

Stainsdale Lake
Originally uploaded by Martha-Ann48

Each autumn when the summer dies
And mists becloud the darkening skies
Mother nature with helping hand
Sends bounteous gifts throughout the land.

Each orchard tree is laden down
With apples red or pears of brown.
Purple plums so ripely hang
For winter pies and dark, sweet jam.

And wayside trees with gifts abound
As autumn bounty can be found.
Green spikey chestnuts split their cases
Glistening conkers show their faces.

Beech masts open tri-lobed shells
And sprinkle nuts upon the fells
Whilst hazelnuts so soft and green
Begin to harden in golden sheen.

The hedgerows too bedecked boughs dip
With orange haw and ruby hip.
Sloe berries dress the blackthorn tree,
In natures garner all is free.

Brambles hide on prickled stems
Woodmice feed on these plump black gems
And squirrels hide acorns near their dreys
A treat for pleasant springtime days.

The colours too are natures gift
Send spirits high and hopes can lift.
Russets, yellows, orange too
Deck leaves with many coloured hue.

The purples, blacks, the glistening reds
Of berries, fruits above our heads.
Nature is fulsome with her fare
And man and beast all take a share.

tomato haikus by Martha-Ann

tumbling tom
Originally uploaded by Martha-Ann48

Summers bounteous gift
Perfect orbs of rich ripe red
Savour the flavour

Spheres of pure delight
Raindrops a glistening
Impatient to taste

A rain washed beauty
Essence of a summers day
Tasty scarlet globes

shades of keats

hips
Originally uploaded by Martha-Ann48

Not so much indian summer as Keats autumn today...seasons of mist and mellow fruitfulness isn't in it.
It began raining last night and only stopped this morning leaving behind a dull, grey, cold & misty day.
These beautiful red rosehips cheer up a corner of the garden.


Rosehips by Martha-Ann

Rosy red amid the darkened gloom of autumn day
A veritable feast of colour keeps October drear at bay.
Perfect tiny packages dangling from the thorny petiole
Tempting hungry birds to feast, swallowing them whole.

indian summer

friends!
Originally uploaded by Martha-Ann48

We've been experiencing an indian summer, the warm flush of autumn sunshine brought the insects out to feed on the dainty yellow ivy flowers. They're very prolific flowerers this year and the bees, flies and butterflies were feasting on them. This comma shared the plant with a bee.


Butterfly by Martha-Ann

Imago
myriad coloured wings flitter & flutter
poised & graceful elegance
coiled spring tongue dipping ever deeper
amid the ivy blossom