Rain

Smudgy and tinny with time, one of my favourite songs Jon & Vangelis - I'll find my way home.  The time when men had hair;), I have this theory that all the stuff now to be found in water, including The Pill, has had an effect on men's hair!

But this morning I have been reading poetry, Ted Hughes still captures the bleakness of West Yorkshire, especally Hepstonhall but as I once more look out on a rainy day, this will suffice....

You Claw the Door

Rain

Crashes the black taut glass.

Lights in foundering valleys, in the gulf,

Splinter from their sockets.

Lights

Over conversation and telly and dishes

In graves full of eternal silence.

Lights

Of the wolf's wraith

That cannot any longer on all these hill

find her pelt.

While the world rolls in rain

Like a stone inside surf.

I started this train of thought because I was thinking of  Hughes 'The Crow'  had been watching our four 'mafia mercenaries' crows take up their position at the bird table in the front garden.  Large, untidy and with yellow beaks they subdue the doves and jackdaws into submission.  Jack the broken winged jackdaw is still with us, he knows where I throw food out for him and has learnt to shin up the old hawthorn shrub, jumping from branch to branch until he reaches the trees - perhaps one day he will fly.  In the book of these poems it is Fay Godwin's photos that haunt you, dark and eerie they capture the grey ruggedness of Yorkshire, and its people of course.

Staup Mill - Fay Godwin