Friday, March 20, 2015

An ode to an eclipse

We searched, but failed to find 
My father's old and tinted welding glass 
That deep-hued slab which warded off actinic flares 
In days now passed. 
The Somerset clouds came then, a shield
To aid our task.

Me: "Listen, the birds are singing. It's a second dawn chorus!"

Clare; "I can't hear anything .."

High-frequency hearing loss - such a filter against Nature.


To descend even deeper into bathos, I sent my Passport renewal application off this morning post-eclipse. This involved an encounter with an authoritarian photo booth at the Post Office. Here's the result.

The author - not about to be incarcerated, I hasten to add!

I have to say that this doesn't correspond to my self-image, the 'inner me' at all. Why doesn't my inner 'David' manifest itself?

Michelangelo rather improves on the photo booth ...

Maybe it's the hair?


Finally, this little nostalgia piece from a pre-Christmas visit to France in December 2012. A left bank bistro in the Parisian night ...

Some of us ate frogs' legs (taste a little like chicken - isn't that what you're meant to say?)