Archive for the ‘Flowers’ Category

Local history exhibition and Lake Ilawa, Poland

August 5, 2019

Dunbar and District History Society (DDHS) have a new exhibition in Dunbar Town House, entitled Summers in Dunbar. The exhibition, excellently curated by DDHS secretary Pauline Smeed, presents a range of information and images from the 1960s onwards, showing how Dunbar was a very popular holiday resort. The town is still an attraction for tourist as this Tripadvisor page (good photos) shows.

Returnable keys at The Roxburghe Hotel in Dunbar (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)

The first photo from the exhibition shows what was the magnificent Roxburghe Marine Hotel, which was one of Scotland’s leading hotels in the 1950s and 1960s. My former classmate Nigel Marcel’s parents owned the hotel in the 1960s and 1970s and he confirmed that when guests mistakenly went away with hotel keys, they would inevitably be returned with a stamp affixed to the key. Room 42 was on the top floor facing the sea. The hotel was later demolished and the area now contains a block of 4 storey attractive flats, many with sea views and a row of cottages which overlook the sea in front. We are lucky enough to live in one the cottages. Nigel remembers cutting the long grass where our house now stands, with a scythe.

Dunbar’s east beach in the 1960s

The second photo from the exhibition shows Dunbar’s east beach, probably in the late 1950s or early 1960s. The beach over the years has lost its sand and has become less used. The people in the photo appear to be very well dressed, so this photo may have been taken on a Sunday, with crowds gathering possibly for a Faith Mission meeting. In the background of the photo, above the beach itself, you can see the remains of the old granary and distillery buildings which stretched along from the harbour. At the bottom right of the photo is an early – and what looks like a very basic – pram. You can see more photos  from the exhibition and more examples of summers in Dunbar on the DDHS website

We were invited to our friends’ son’s wedding in Poland last weekend. The wedding took place in the idyllic setting of Lake Ilawa. There is a complex of large and small lakes in this area and we were in  the town of Ilawa, which is on one of the smaller lakes. 

Looking across Lake Ilawa

The photo above shows the view of Lake Ilawa and this smaller lake had a 2K circumference. This is looking across the water to the Hotel Stary Tartak (good photos) where we stayed and where the wedding took place. The hotel is very comfortable and very cheap by UK standards. Walking around the lake was a pleasure as once you got past the shopping area, few people were about.

Lake Ilawa through the trees

This photo shows the lake through the trees which cover the lakeside but do not obstruct your view and add interest to your walk. We did take a boat trip which began on this lake and went round an island in the next, much bigger lake. It was a very relaxing 50 minutes and although much of the trip passes the lakeside reeds, these are wonderful to look at, as they swayed in the breeze, just like the barley fields at home at the moment.

A coot swims at the lakeside in Ilawa

At the landing where the boat trip starts, there were many ducks and also a number of coots which have the scientific name Fulica Atra. These are very attractive birds but they tend to be very wary of humans in this country and will swim away rapidly at your approach. At the lakeside in Ilawa, the coots are obviously accustomed to people approaching them, so I was pleased to get this photo of the coot and its reflection in the swirling water, with its varied light patterns.

Water lily on the lakeside at the Stary Tartak

Water lilies by the lakeside at the Stary Tartak

At the back of the Hotel Stary Tartak, were outside seating areas and some loungers at the lakeside. When you got to the water’s edge, you could see the large cluster of water lilies (Nymphaea). In the close-up photo above, you can see the beautiful pink petals – inspiration for the Sydney Opera House maybe? – and the delicate yellow stamens reaching for the sun. The 2nd photo shows the water lily flowers sitting on their fan-like leaves amongst the reeds. If you ever need to be away from it all and relax , go and look at some water lilies.

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Researching in the National Library of Scotland and prolific lavender in the garden

July 19, 2019

When I was a student at the University of Edinburgh many years ago, access to the National Library of Scotland was denied to undergraduates until they entered their honours year – the fourth year of study. I spent much of this final year in the National Library as I could get documents relating to my dissertation which the university library did not have. I also found it a very conducive place to study as it was quiet and had an academic atmosphere. I was took one of my friends to the Reading Room and he had to leave after a short period of time as he said it was too quiet. Study habits, such as where and when to study, tend to be formed when students are in their early teens and, despite claims you will find on the internet about e.g. the study habits of successful students, individuals differ in the preferences. When I took up local history research a few years ago, after retiring, I went back to the National Library of Scotland (NLS) to get books and articles relating to my research on my home town of Dunbar in the 1950s. I still find the NLS an enthralling place to visit.

Stairs up to the Reading Room in the National Library of Scotland (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)

The photo above (taken on my phone) shows the stairs which lead up to the main Reading Room and the NLS have taken to insert quotations from famous scholars on view here. David Hume was an eighteenth century philosopher who was born in Edinburgh and is recognised as one of the most important philosophers in the world. So there is a grand stairway leading up to where the real research is done.

Looking down from the Reading Room level at the NLS

This photo shows the view from the 2nd flight of stairs above the main stairs. The window frames at the top right are only part of this huge window ” comprising square glass panels each etched with alternating panes of a thistle and Scottish crown and the arms of the principal benefactors of the library”. The ornate banisters on either side are “painted in black with gold leaf and [each] has a mahogany handrail”.  A fuller description can be found here. On the walls are framed examples of some of the illustrative work to be found in the NLS archives. Many visitors come up to this point to admire the interior but only NLS members i.e. people doing research, can enter the Reading Room.

Inside the NLS Reading Room – upstairs

Once you go through the Reading Rooms, you have to place your NLS card on a reader to go further. To get your reserved books – and this is still a predominantly book-based library – you go to a desk where the assistant will retrieve your ordered material. I reserved three books yesterday and collected them today. It is an excellent service as you can return the books and and get them back for another five days. The NLS is not a lending library. Upstairs in the Reading Room, in the photo above, you can see the domed and squared roof windows which let in natural light. This library is for serious research, so it is quiet and therefore conducive to learning. This is not to say that all libraries should be quiet. Far from it – lending and children’s sections of public libraries should encourage conversation and school libraries (one of my former areas of research) should be places where students, teachers and school librarians can discuss what is being studied. The NLS also has regular free exhibitions which are certainly worth visiting.

It is now midway through our summer in the UK and in our garden, the lavender bushes are now at their peak. Lavender plants are prolific growers, with their abundant stems reaching up to one metre above the base. In the winter, the lavender is almost invisible – a series of grey patches in the garden – but in summer, it shoots up to dominate the landscape in a furious burst of colour.

Prolific lavender in our front garden

The photo above shows how the lavenders of different kinds have spread themselves across the garden. Every time I walk into the house, I rub my fingers on a lavender head and take in the wonderful scent provided by the bush. After a shower of rain, if you open the front door, the lavender scent wafts across your face and you can inhale the welcoming odour.

Lavender, hydrangea and roses

The photo above shows how the lavender provides height at the back of our small patch of garden outside the front door. Near the front, the smaller lavender, with its much thicker heads has spread itself over the ground in the past year. The poppies still in flower on the right hand side are accidental i.e. not planted by us but spread by the wind or the birds. Lavender has featured in literature for many centuries. Shakespeare (Winter’s Tale) wrote ” Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram;/ The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ th’ sun”. Lavender has also been seen as health giving. A 1545 herbal states ” I judge that the flowers of lavender quilted in a cappe and dayly worn are good for all diseases of the head”.

A rose after the rain

Finally, one of the climbing roses, seen in close-up – my favourite form of photography. There is startling beauty in this rose – the delicate petals still holding on to the raindrops and the exquisite centre, with its pink and orange. The flowers may only last for about a week in total but the look and smell of them linger in the memory for much longer.

Milkman by Anna Burns and poppies at the side of the railway

July 1, 2019

I have just finished reading Anna Burns‘ Man Booker Prize winning novel Milkman (good review). It was a controversial winner of the prize as some reviewers did not enjoy the intensity of the book, which features many long paragraphs describing the feelings of an 18 year girl growing up in an unnamed country in the 1970s. There is no doubt that Burns has created a character – whose name we never discover – with a unique voice, relating to family troubles, her relationship with “maybe boyfriend”, her stalking by a local “renouncer” and her reflections on being an unusual late-teenage girl with conflicting feelings about herself, her environment and her family. We are quickly aware that we are in 1970s Northern Ireland, possibly in Belfast, where Burns grew up. There is a universal aspect to this claustrophobic society, where rumour is rife and controls what people think of each other.

It is also a controlled society, with the powerful state on one side, represented by an oppressive army and police force. These forces – we assume them to be the British – harass the girl’s community ( not stated but clearly Catholic) and support the people “over there” (not stated but clearly Protestant) in the city and “over the water”. There is also internal control by the “renouncers of the state” – the IRA – who rule the girl’s home area and mete out severe punishments on suspected informers. The protagonist, only known as “middle sister” or “daughter” or “maybe-girlfriend”, is seen as unusual as she does not conform to unstated and unwritten rules of her community.

The book can be difficult to read at times – it is occasionally repetitive about this closed society – but Burns manages to move the story on and include some dark humour to illuminate a potentially gloomy plot. It is certainly a different kind of novel but one well worth buying. I read it in small chunks and it might be more rewarding to make a more sustained effort to get the best effect.

An intriguing novel (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)

We seem to have had an extended period of wind from the east this year – and that means cool to cold around here – so I have been cycling in that direction for a while now. The route takes me on the road to the local cement works, where I join a cycle path. At the moment, the countryside is full of growth. The once green barley now has multi-grained heads and has turned slightly yellow, as it sways in the wind. The sprout plants which looked pale, forlorn and unlikely to survive, have now blossomed into more substantial and healthy looking plants, although they still have a lot of growing to do. The potato fields are now in flower as are the fields of peas, which must be profitable this year as there are many more stretches of pea-green to be seen. On the side of the fields, there are scatterings of poppies, some bright red, some pale red and a few purple heads can also be seen.

I stopped my bike on the cycle path next to the railway on one side and the muddy tracks of the cement works on the other, to admire a mass of poppies. In the photo below, you can see that when you get closer, you are looking at more than poppies, as scattered amongst the swaying redheads are a variety of wildflowers and thistles.

Poppies at the side of the cycle track

I last posted on poppies in 2016 and quoted the poet Sujata Bhatt and her poem which describes wild poppies as “a living flame of love” and as “a wildfire / by the roads”. The poet sees “how their sheerest silks glisten in the sun” and if you look close at poppies, you see their silk-like heads. I took a video on my phone of the scene and you can see the contrast between “the living flame” of the poppies and the green of the ivy.

Poppies at the side of the tracks near the cement works

One of the photos of a large poppy head in my garden in 2016 was used in that blog post. You can see in the photo below that the petals do have a silky sheen and that the centre piece could be mistaken for some kind of tarantula, either real or mythical.

Inside a poppy head

As I was scrolling through photos of this year, I came across this close up of a tulip head and it has a striking similarity to that of the poppy head, but with a different species of 6 legged creature in the middle. They are both exquisite examples of design in nature which provides inspiration to poets and artists alike.

Tulip head with tarantula centre

A lasting gift of yellow roses and a stormy day in Dunbar

June 14, 2019

Two years ago, my good friend and ex-classmate Nigel brought us two rose bushes as a present and the two small plants have now grown to medium sized and well-rooted specimens. These are yellow roses which have a beautiful scent, something which is mostly missing from cut roses you see in supermarkets, although independent florists may be different. This photo was taken in the sunshine during a dry spell of weather and you can see the shadows on the delicate, smooth petals shielding the more complicated centre, to which the bees are attracted.

Yellow rose in the sunshine (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)

In the past few days, we’ve had heavy rain and I took this photo after a downpour. This rose is still opening up and retains the bud, like a clenched fist, in the middle of the flower. The raindrops are still on the petals and on the leaves. The rougher and somewhat damaged leaves contrast with the perfection of the bright rose and enhance the colour of the rose itself.

Yellow rose after the rain

On closer inspection, in this photo, there appears to be a great number of shades of yellow from the darker yellow in the centre, to the almost white of the outside petals. These roses do not last long and are prey to very heavy rain and strong winds, but when we watch them emerge from their initially small, green-leaved buds and grow into this startling show of elegance and sophistication, we appreciate the lasting gift we were given.

Rain-spattered yellow rose

Yesterday, the storm came from the north-east with a fierce wind driving the waves into the shore and battering trees, tall grasses and anything else in its way. It is of course wonderful to look at from inside the house, but on the 12th of June, you might think it would not be as stormy i.e. 44mph gusts, and that it might be just a wee bit warmer than 10 degrees. When we lived in Australia for a time in the mid 2000s, we would go to Wagga Wagga Road Runners (my wife running and me timing) on a Saturday in the winter months. On the few occasions that it rained and was down to 14 degrees, I would be greeted by “Just like a summer’s day in Scotland, James” by some of the runners. There was no argument with them yesterday.

The sea was very dark under a heavy sky – a darker sky than it looks in this photo – and the wind dragged the whitish waves to the beach. White waves in the sunshine are much different from white waves under heavy clouds – less appealing and less cheerful. The seagulls on the other hand, were decidedly cheerful, swooping across the top of the waves and gliding back, effortlessly into the air. It looked like they might be having a contest to see who could fly the longest without flapping their wings.

Stormy sea in June aka Summer

In this photo, you get a better idea of the force of the sea, especially in the enlarged version. It is mesmerising to watch the waves chase each other to the promenade wall, slap the wall violently and turn to face their inrushing neighbour, which is then tackled with the force of an All Black forward.

Big waves driven to the shore

For the sounds of the sea and the real strength of the wind, have a look at my wee video of the mid-morning storm.

A summer’s (?) day in Dunbar

Guardian Country diary on bluebells and honeysuckle in the garden

June 7, 2019

At the beginning of May, I read an inspiring Guardian Country Diary article by Paul Evans entitled “Spring pilgrimage to an uncanny bluebell wood” and I have kept it in mind for the blog. Evans is a poetic writer with a great gift of finding appropriate words for the scenes he describes and this article begins ” Bluebells in Black Hayes – the sky above the leafing oaks is spring clear, with an echoing blue shimmer across the woodland floor” and further on we find that this blue shimmer is a carpet of bluebells. The photo below is a local shimmer of blue in the form of bluebells in the woods at Foxlake woods near Dunbar. It is a wonderful sight as the colour of the delicate looking bluebells is enhanced by the mainly still bare trees.

Bluebells at Foxlake woods (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)

Evans continues ” Black Hayes is strangely open, a kind of wood pasture whose secret valley slopes support amazing lawns of bluebells” and it to these woods, situated near former coal mines, that he makes an annual pilgrimage ” to stand and look and breathe them in”. While I enjoy the look and faint smell of the bluebells, I need to get close up to the flowers to see their intricate patterns and the surprising number of shades of blue in each flower, as in the photo below.

Many shades of blue

Evans feels that this wood “is always uncanny as if resents trespass” but he then hears the birds singing, which is more positive, although he ends with “A pair of ravens bark at our presence” and the poet in him returns. This is a short article but one with depth and you have feeling reading it that you might have been by the writer’s side. The bluebells have had their time in the sunlight at Foxlake and the ground is now in shade as the trees have a canopy of leaves, but the sight of them lives long in the memory.

Bluebells at Foxlake

In my garden, the honeysuckle is in full flower and an absence of strong westerly winds, which we often get at this time of year, has meant that the flowers have lasted longer than normal. I cut the honeysuckle back last year and this has resulted in a new flourish of these multicoloured flowers. You can see in the photo below that when the honeysuckle do flower, there is an extravaganza of flower heads, with beautiful white, pink and purple on display. Honeysuckle with its scientific name of lonicera is also known as woodbine and in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, Oberon refers to a bank “Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine”.

Honeysuckle bush in full flower

As with the bluebells, you need to get close up and personal with the honeysuckle to see how it takes on an altogether more surreal appearance. In the photo below, the flower takes on the structure of an alien creature, newly arrived on earth, with its octopus like tentacles spread out to catch sight of (and maybe devour) the strange earthlings.

Multi limbed honeysuckle flower

When you take a step back, you can see (next photo) how the flowers and the leaves complement each other, with the delicately veined leaves providing a background for the more colourful flowers which have, like the bluebells, an amazing range of shades of colour. We are now officially in summer here in the UK and the honeysuckle sparkling in the sunshine today really make it feel like summer. Mmmm – a pity about that cool east wind.

Tulips and pansies come to the fore

April 29, 2019

We had the snowdrops first, then the crocuses, then the daffodils, but now it is time for the annual tulip and pansy bonanza, and static parade. Tulips are flowers which range from the small and delicately shaded red/white or maroon/yellow, but these are the mere handmaidens and male attendants to the big, bold (and some might think brash) dominant leaders (male and female – who can tell?) in the garden. Look at the photo below, from one of the pots at the back of our house and you see both kinds of tulip – small but beautifully shaded and tall and imposing. The tall flowers have that look-at-me-and-wonder posture – see my height, my elegant stem and powerful colouring.

Large and smaller tulip in my garden pots. (click on all photos to enlarge)

I always advise people not just to admire the tulip flower, but to look inside the tulip head. Here we find something very attractive to pollinators but quite malevolent looking. The next photo shows a very elegant yellow tulip with an intriguing middle section. The yellow pistil is the focal point of attraction for bees but the background, which is feather-like or maybe made out of cat’s fur (see enlarged version), provides a stunningly delicate background.

Inside a tulip head

When you go closer up, you can also see the dark anthers which stretch out like antennae, maybe sensing the air for undesirable visitors. If you take this photo on its own, it could come out of a horror movie and represent an alien structure ready to entice unsuspecting humans – a much inferior species – into its deathly folds. Or it could be a superb piece of surrealist art representing, well… whatever you want it to.

Surreal inside of a tulip

Pansies may be further down the pecking order in terms of height and presence in the garden but they have now come into their own, waiting for a bit of heat to expand their size and colour range. The more modest pansies sit below the tall, elegant tulips but they are waiting their time, knowing that the tulips will age quickly and that even a strongish wind will shatter the tulip heads.

In my garden, I have a variety of colours of pansies. Firstly, the purple and white version. You might think that this flower is made up of butterfly wings, given the shape and delicate colours in the mainly white parts, and the bolder, deeply-veined purple sections. Then see the bright yellow centre, which attracts insects for pollination. For a detailed description of the female and male parts of a pansy, see here.

Strikingly coloured pansy flower

In this photo of a pot of pansies, the bright colours of the pansies are offset with the perhaps duller green of the foliage, but nature needs contrast as the flowers stand out more against the green. I like the variety of colours in this one pot – blue, purple, white and yellow – all artistically gathered together.

Pansies in a clay pot

The final photo shows the yellow pansy with the very dark centre, perhaps reminiscent of the dark inside of the tulip head. The sun is on the flower and the shadow of one petal against another gives an extra dimension to picture. All the petals are neatly folded against each other and there is an elegant flow to the flower head, although this flow goes in different directions. Looking at tulips and pansies close up is very rewarding and it is something we should do more often.

The driveway to Spott House: daffodils and views beyond

April 11, 2019

Over the past 2 weeks, there has been a proliferation of daffodils around East Lothian – on the approaches to towns and villages, at roundabouts, on the edges of woods and in gardens (including my own) around Dunbar. My wife returned from her Wednesday walking group outing to tell me of a spectacular display of daffodils on the driveway up to Spott House (good photos), the residence of the owner of the local Spott Farm. The next day was bright and sunny, so we returned to capture the scene. The two photos below are looking up the driveway, from the left hand side and then the right hand side. The trees are still bare, so the daffodils have no competition in the colour stakes with the green leaves which will appear later. The starkness of the trees in fact enhances the brilliant yellow of the daffodils, although the tree trunks along the edges of the driveway are tall, slim and elegant.

Looking up the driveway to Spott House (Click on all photos to enlarge)
Looking up the driveway to Spott House

There had been rain that morning and this had left most of the daffodils with pearl-like drops of rain on them. The two close up shots below – from the front and the back of the flowers – show the translucent quality of the outer leaves, which are paler compared to the brighter yellow. The sun on the first photo makes the delicate raindrops sparkle on the flower head.

Raindrops on the daffodils

In the second photo below, I like the way that the stem behind the rain-spotted leaf is like a shadow and the natural structure of the flower head is something that a human designer or engineers might be proud of. Again the sun helps to give a wonderful sheen to the silk-like texture of the leaves.

Rain on the back of a daffodil head

There are superb views across the countryside from this driveway. The next photo shows the view to the west and you can see that the daffodils are now in full bloom and are complemented by the background of an oil seed rape field which is just turning yellow. When the daffodils fade, the field behind will be a huge swathe of even brighter yellow.

Daffodils, trees and ripening oil seed rape near Spott House

The next photo shows a view of Doon Hill from the driveway. The hill is famous for its neolithic settlement and its proximity to the site of the Battle of Dunbar in 1650. In the photo, you can see the gorse bushes on the hill which are also yellow at this time of year.

Doon Hill seen from Spott House Driveway

From this location, you get a superb view over to Dunbar and you can see how the town has expanded in recent years with the building of hundreds of new houses. On the right hand side, just next to the trees, is Dunbar Parish Church and our house is down the hill from that church.

Looking over Dunbar from Spott House driveway

The final view is looking down the driveway, which gives a splendid view of the trees and the daffodils on either side. In the distance, the hill you can see is North Berwick Law (good photos) which dominates that area of East Lothian. So we enjoyed a fine walk on a Spring morning with invigorating views and an entrancing display of daffodils.

Looking towards North Berwick Law from Spott House

Bia Bistrot restaurant and cycling against the wind

March 18, 2019

We’ve now been twice to the excellent Bia Bistrot restaurant in Edinburgh. The name is intriguing and its origins lie in the background of the owners and chefs. Roisin (pr Rosheen) is Irish and she provides the Bia which is Irish Gaelic for food. Matthias is French and Bistrot is a French form of bistro. Their philosophy is to provide customers with “good food in a bistro atmosphere” and they certainly do that. The restaurant is situated just off Holy Corner in Edinburgh’s Morningside area. The name Holy Corner originates from the 4 churches which are situated on or near the crossroads on Morningside Road. So to the food in Bia Bistrot. Forget about good food which the restaurant offers, this is very high quality food at very reasonable prices, especially at lunch time. There is a daily set menu at lunch time which offers customers 2 courses for £10 and 3 courses for £12. Given the location of the restaurant – Morningside is often seen as quite posh – and the quality of the food, this is amazing value. On our last visit, 2 out of the four of us choose this menu and were not disappointed. One of the dishes which is not on the regular menu but is part of the daily specials from time to time, is (photo below) Gressingham duck terrine & raspberry dressing. This is a dish that looks good when it is laid in front of you but it’s when you taste it that its appeal rises from good to superb. Sometimes when you go to good restaurants, the lunch menu is cheaper but the portions can be meagre. This is certainly not the case with Bia Bistrot.


An attractive and tasty starter in Bia Bistrot (Click on all photos to enlarge)

I chose a dish off the main menu, the Cod fillet, saffron potatoes, crayfish and chorizo bisque and the dish itself matches your expectations when you read the ingredients. It’s also wonderful to look at as in the photo below – enlarge for best effect. There’s a lot of talk these days about food porn i.e. people taking more time to photograph their food and sending it out via social media, than it takes to eat the food. In this restaurant, the eating is the real reward as you enjoy a delicious combination of fresh ingredients. The photos were sent to me by Matthias. The service in Bia Bistrot is friendly, attentive but not intrusive and the food is of a very high quality. Everyone we know who has gone to the restaurant sings its praises, so if you are in the area, be sure to book ahead.

Attractive and delicious cod dish at Bia Bistrot

For the past 2 weeks, we’ve had strong to gale force winds almost every day and the early spring flowers such as the crocuses in a previous post, have been battered relentlessly. As far as cycling goes, I left my lighter road bike in the garage and went out on my mountain bike, which is heavier but more stable in the wind. There is lots of advice on the web about cycling against the wind e.g. here but much of it is stating the obvious, such as checking the direction and strength of the wind before you go out. Cycling against the wind comes in two forms. The most straightforward – and the hardest – is cycling into the wind. When you are having to cycle down a hill just to keep going, it’s you and the bike against the wind – a battle that one of you is going to win. There’s no time to look at the brilliant green of the emerging crops in the fields in spring around Dunbar or to admire the freshness and shiny undulations in a newly ploughed field. The second form is not as hard but can be the most dangerous. This is when the wind is coming at you from the side. There is a steep hill going down to Pitcox farm and the “big hoose (house)” (good photo), and this can be an exhilarating ride, but in very strong winds there is a need to anticipate the gaps in the hedges which line the fields, as the wind surges through and can knock you across the road. There are also two joys of cycling against the wind. The first is that you can hear the wind coming against you but also you can hear it whooshing through the trees at the road side. The poet Longfellow wrote
I hear the wind among the trees
Playing celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.

A new word to me is Psithurism which is the sound of the wind through the trees – the P is silent and it is obviously onomatopoeic, as when you pronounce each syllable slowly, you can hear the wind. The second joy is at the turning point in the cycle ride and you get what my pal John calls “a blaw hame (blow home)”. This your reward for the previous struggle against the wind and you can hurtle along the road with impunity.

The Perseverance by Raymond Antrobus and crocuses in Stenton

February 26, 2019

A delay in the blog due to visiting rellies, local history talk and a grand day out with my former (but never old) classmates Tam and Nigel. I’ve just finished reading the latest Poetry Book Society Choice, Raymond Antrobus’ The Perseverance. The young poet Raymond Antrobus is described as British-Jamaican and part of the book is an elegy to his late father. The other distinguishing feature of this remarkably assured debut collection is Antrobus’ reflections on his experience as a child and young adult who was deaf at birth. The first poem is Echo and begins “My ear amps whistle as if singing/ to Echo, Goddess of Noise,/ the ravelled knot of tongues,/ of blaring birds, consonant crumbs/ of dull doorbells, sounds swamped/ in my misty hearing aid tubes”. It is obviously impossible for a person with normal hearing to imagine being deaf, but these lines gives us a vivid description of what it might be like. Antrobus’ precision with words e.g. “ravelled knot”, “consonant crumbs” or “misty” makes you read the lines again, to get the full effect. Part of the book is an anguished cry about what he calls the d/Deaf experience and how deaf children have been treated unequally because of their difference i.e. not disability e.g. “I call you out… for assessing / deaf students on what they can’t say / instead of what they can”. The title of the book The Perseverance refers to the name of the pub the poet’s father used to leave him outside as a child and “watch him disappear / into smoke and laughter”. His father tells him “There’s no such thing as too much laughter” after visiting the pub, but the poet notes that this may be true, “unless you’re my mother without my father”. The father may be flawed (and who is not?) but is mostly a loving and patient father, especially when reading to his deaf son. Antrobus has a wonderful facility for creating emotion with words. Referring to his father’s late dementia, he thanks the syndrome for bringing back memories of the past to his father, such as the dance halls he enjoyed. “When his sleeping face / was a scrunched tissue / wet with babbling, / you came, unravelling a joy / making him euphoric” and he asks dementia to ” do your gentle magic / but make me unafraid / of what is / disappearing”. Antrobus is a young poet and his second collection will be expectantly awaited.


A remarkable debut collection from an outstanding poet (Click on all photos to enlarge)

The previous post featured snowdrops, and as Monday follows Sunday, the crocuses follow the snowdrops with a blaze of colour, as if determined to outshine their plain green and white predecessors. Out on the bike, I often cycle through the bonnie village of Stenton which is about 6 miles/ 10K from Dunbar, away from the coast to the foot of the hills. There are two extensive groups of crocus in the village. The first photo shows the spread of different colours in the flowers, with a stone cottage in the background and the church spire just above the cottage.

Crocuses in Stenton village

The next photo shows the spread of crocuses beneath The Tron – a wooden beam with an iron crossbar and hooks on either end. This device was historically used to weigh bulk items such as wool and grain in the markets which used to be held in the village. The word tron is derived from the French word for balance – more information here.

Crocuses beneath the Tron in Stenton village

I took a number of close-up shots of the crocuses – you can also refer to croci as crocus is a Latin word, albeit derived from the Greek krokos – to get a better view of their strength of colour along with the delicacy of their flower heads. The first photo shows two groups of crocuses, one yellow and one purple. They complement each other and are shown off to good effect by the green of the grass beneath them. When the crocuses first start to appear, it is their own greenery – hiding the emergent flowers – which shows first and they can be hard to spot. Then, all of a sudden it seems, there is a huge outbreak of colour.

A choir of yellow and purple crocuses

On closer inspection, in the photo below, you can see the bright orange stigma reaching out to attract the bees and other pollinators. What is more attractive is the David Hockney like lines inside the flower. These thin and thicker purple lines resemble images of trees in winter. Walking past this group of crocuses, you might never see these patterns.

Patterns inside the crocus flower heads in Stenton

In the next photo – of one crocus – the lines are even more delicate and the sun shining on part of the flower head adds to it beautiful shape and patterns.

I then went along to the village green to see the other natural display – another outburst of colours on the grass and between the trees. The final photo shows the sweep of the crocuses, the colour enhanced by the bare trees, and the solid stone cottages, of which there are many in this very attractive East Lothian village.

Crocuses on the village green in Stenton