Miscellany on Sunday

Today is Sunday, a damp and drizzly day, a time to contemplate the world outside.  First of all as I wash up and watch the birds at the bird feeder, a greater spotted woodpecker flies in (music - she wears red feathers and a hula-hula skirt) actually he is a male feeding on the nuts.  Here comes the chaffinch, then my little feathery balls of tree sparrows, the coal tits make an appearance and so do blue tits. 

Taken from The Woodland Trust

I watched the kitten yesterday evening sleeping quietly by the honeysuckle, is she lonely I wonder, her sleepiness shows a confidence in my presence, she will often doze off as I fill her bowl with biscuits and I wonder what will happen to her in the future.

I talked to a friend over the church wall, sad news the dreaded C has invaded the person who so kindly helped me make up the single bed in the downstairs room for Paul and in which I sleep now.  He is unrecognisable she says, such things haunt the mind all day.  Gossip is not always happy, and we contemplate the new world we have arrived via the virus.

Yes music was on my mind yesterday, I thought of Bob Dylan's  - It's a Hard Rain Gonna Fall but then decided it was too miserable for 'Desert Island Discs' but I love the poetic words even though they are beginning to reflect the world we live in now.  My next thought went to Leonard Cohen and 'You want it Darker', again too near  the grave to be happy.  So another favourite and a bit more cheerful  Ra-Ra Rasputin, I love music you can dance to and the words always make me laugh. As for classical, putting Mozart to one side for the moment, English music still holds its charm, Ralph Vaughan William 'The Lark Ascending' can still catch the heart. Sea music by Peter Maxwell Davies, and then there's a composer that dances at the back of my brain, high church music in a discordant tone, a bit like Davies is doing at the moment.......

I was going to take the above paragraph out but it takes me on an enticing adventure into music and will leave it, just to jog my memory. Roses are beginning to emerge, Rosa Mundi with its stripey petals, Compassion's pink blooms are beginning to unfold, and is that a Graham Thomas yellow rose or did it die last year and I have another named rose?

I note a certain grumbling about the status of George Floyd, he is a criminal they say.  Yes, maybe, but this movement has just made him a symbol of a truth that so called Anglo-Saxons have been hiding under the bed for years, we are ever so slightly racist ;) Like women had to get through the 'glass ceiling' years ago, we now have to as some one put it so beautifully yesterday  about black people.  We do not want to be on the menu anymore, we want to sit at the table.....................