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poliphiloI'd forgotten about setting the clocks back but, no matter, most clocks that aren't heritage time pieces reset themselves these days.
The pattern of rain, shine, rain, shine continues. Ailz says it's going to be like this for the rest of the week. Last time I looked outside, there were little, thin vapourous clouds hurrying east with blue sky visible between them- and a big, piled-up rain cloud heaving itself up over the hills.
Yesterday I cleaned out a gutter that was overflowing noisily outside our bedroom window. Ladders were not involved because I don't do ladders. Instead I use a telescopic pole with a paddle at the end. I can use it from inside the house, leaning out the window, working it to and fro, with lots of splashing and sploshing and splatting...
I took a look at Shelley's Ode to the West Wind because the weather he describes in it isn't so very unlike this weather we're having now. Oh, the self pity! Oh, the uplift! Once, in class, when I was still at an age to be working with coloured pencils, a teacher set us the task of drawing Shelley's sky- with its clouds like the locks "Of some fierce maenad"- and we found, to our surprise- that he'd given us some fairly precise visual information to be working with. 18th century nature poetry is all zephyrs and enamelled lawns and you know the poet has been dipping his nose into his Ovid instead of looking out the window- but the writers of the romantic generation were close observers and weatherwise- and brought something of the scientific method into their work...
The pattern of rain, shine, rain, shine continues. Ailz says it's going to be like this for the rest of the week. Last time I looked outside, there were little, thin vapourous clouds hurrying east with blue sky visible between them- and a big, piled-up rain cloud heaving itself up over the hills.
Yesterday I cleaned out a gutter that was overflowing noisily outside our bedroom window. Ladders were not involved because I don't do ladders. Instead I use a telescopic pole with a paddle at the end. I can use it from inside the house, leaning out the window, working it to and fro, with lots of splashing and sploshing and splatting...
I took a look at Shelley's Ode to the West Wind because the weather he describes in it isn't so very unlike this weather we're having now. Oh, the self pity! Oh, the uplift! Once, in class, when I was still at an age to be working with coloured pencils, a teacher set us the task of drawing Shelley's sky- with its clouds like the locks "Of some fierce maenad"- and we found, to our surprise- that he'd given us some fairly precise visual information to be working with. 18th century nature poetry is all zephyrs and enamelled lawns and you know the poet has been dipping his nose into his Ovid instead of looking out the window- but the writers of the romantic generation were close observers and weatherwise- and brought something of the scientific method into their work...
