He’s been a naughty boy that Brian
Making a Lovely Lady’s hair stand on end
Whipping the Lovely Ladies hair into a right old frenzy
The Lovely Lady can’t see where she’s going now.
(Don’t go too near the edge of that cliff Lovely Lady)
She’d give that stormy Brian a good talking to she would
(If she could see him)
Yes, a very naughty boy you are Brian.
Don’t do it again.
Blown and Blustered!
Gusted and Fustered
With temperamental Fluster!
It has whined and its howled
Like tormented Fowls!
Whipped up the trees, shaken their leaves
And Dizzeyed the Bees!
The birds have all flown to a much safer home!
Waves crash and smash on the
Old Harbour walls.
Ships strain their ropes, whilst the
Fishermen’s hopes of taking out boats
Are all dashed and postponed…..’til…..
Old Brian is spent and these storms are soon rent
And Autumn’s warm Sun is content.
– Poem & Words: Hazel Brown
Illustration: Hazel Brown
Not much thaw going on this winter because not much frost and no snow (not down here in South Devon anyway)
But finally, this week, a couple of mornings with some frost icing the windows.
Would there being anything in Tessier Garden this rainy Saturday afternoon to observe and write down in our little notebooks? Well there were the spots in that umbrella……
“You hold it!”
“No, I’ll hold it !”
“Getting wet !!”
“Can’t see a thing!”
The kind of rain
That wets you through.
The wind that drives these drops.
The kind of rain…….
Is the rain kind?
A wet bench with wet
Trees dripping huge drops.
“I’m wet! ”
“I’ll hold it !”
“No I’ll hold it !”
“Let’s get under it …TOGETHER!”
The rain… Is kind!.
Picture & Poem: Hazel Brown
Down to Meadfoot beach this afternoon to wolf down our hogs pudding sarnies.
Yappy yap dogs were everywhere. It’s October 1st. They’re allowed back to shit on beaches for the winter.
Of shags we could see hardly any.
Over towards Paington and Brixham were these little sailboats
Were they racing? No, they were flapping back and forth, as if part of a school.
There was plenty of weather around. The seasky was portentous with voluminous cloud.
Dump a shower of rain and a bolt of thunder up these dogs arses please!
The sailboats flippy flapped on, left to right, right to left across the brothy sea.
Words & Photo’s: Ian Nisbet
Here’s a couple of Darmoor watercolours Haze drew (and watered) (and coloured) on Saturday afternoon while lying in (my) bed.
The windy wilderness of the Moors is blowing through this picture.
A meteorologists dream is Dartmoor.
Dramatic and sudden shifts of weather are the norm up there.
This second watercolour is also of The Moors (of Haze’s imagination).
It’ll be raining again in a minute.
Like last year I’ve kicking off this new year with a film of birds in the silver birch outside my kitchen window.
There are jackdaws, magpies, collared doves, starlings (or possibly some kind of tit, Haze will know)
All these birds seem to use this silver birch as a town-centre ‘lookout post’ or communication hub. So many birds were hopping on and off today. Maybe the unseasonally warm weather we’re having is making them frisky.
Warm and wet. That’s how it’s been all winter long. But come rain come shine, be it rook be it dove, the silver birch gracefully receives everything that throws itself on, or at, her.
Words & Video: Ian Nisbet