Category Archives: Biophilia
Snappindahood
Having dispensed with the services of the apostrophes, added some elision and a dash of inspiration from my sister – we have a whole new word: a neologism.
Snappindahood: the practice of taking everyday images in your neighbourhood with a mobile phone
This is 75 yards south of here about ten past eight this morning; where I sometimes walk the dog. There’s a nod to red, white and blue in there.
A child comes to call
A few days ago an unknown kid from a few streets away rang the doorbell and asked if my youngest, aged 7, could come out to play. Apparently she’s a class mate. For a moment, it was just like when I was a kid in the 1970s, except now it’s the 2000s and there’s a lot more traffic on the road for a start, and that whole culture of playing outside on the street has sort of died out a bit. Notwithstanding my constant alertness to health and safety, the two of them played out, under loose supervision, for a while.
I then sent our visitor home, with a note with my telephone number on, saying she was welcome to come another time and giving my mobile number in case there is any problem with this arrangement. I’ve heard nothing and today she’s back for her tea. I’ve no interest in judging how other parents choose to bring up their kids, but I have gathered from this child that she’s from a big family and she plays out on her own a lot. Seems sensible, then, to come somewhere for food and glass of water (which is all I’ve got at the moment, unless she wants a cup of tea).
The girl is a white kid with a crew cut and she has a burly mountain bike she cruises round on. It looks like it’s been an older brother’s conveyance at some point. I am intrigued. I wonder how long she’s going to come round for. I wonder if she and my daughter will fall out. I wonder what’s going on in her own home. And she reminds me of something else. How Malcolm X, after his father died and his mother was left with seven and then eight children to care for, started roaming around town, calling on other people and sometimes getting fed.
Our visitor shows an enterprising nature and I like that. I still think I will walk her back home after tea though. Just in case.
Malcolm
May Birthdays
They come thick and fast in the month of maypoles, blossom, bank holidays and, finally, some warmer weather…
A mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, an uncle and a best friend.
Best wishes everyone, grab at least one sunbeam if you can!
Bedraggled Spring
The rain has bedraggled just about anything and everything recently, so much so, if there was any spring, I’ve missed it.
It was good to look up today and see these fellas in the park. Ok, they were a little wan and shy, as if they had no business being there but, I am sure, if the sun ever pitches itself into the sky again, they’ll soon be acting as if they own the place. I can’t wait. And, specifically, I can’t wait to the tune of ‘Reelin’ in the Years’ by Steely Dan.
The sun in a puddle
I was out in the general murk this morning with the dog and on the way back I was aware it felt like the sun was trying to make an appearance. I thought I might try and photograph a proliferation of green plant psychedelia on the verge, but when I crossed the road I noticed the sun shining, at my feet.
It hadn’t broken through the clouds, but somehow its reflection in the huge puddles on the road magnified its rays. It faded nearly as abruptly as it had appeared but that didn’t stop the dog and I, dodging the traffic as it barrelled round the blind bend, from trying to catch a few rays to share on here.
It’s like I’m trying to spite Oscar Wilde who said, ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.’ This is more like, I am in the gutter and I find all kinds of cosmic entities right there, thank you very much….
You start with a bit of recreational pigeon haikuery…
And, before you know it, you are onto the hard seagull seventeen-syllable gear, imported from Japan.
A seagull pimp rolls
the street, glares at pigeons. Then,
stops, to window shop.
Rooftops Haiku
A pigeon hangs tough
Chimney pot dipping, tipping
and fanning his tail
From Luigi FDV’s Flickr photostream here
An out of focus haiku
Sometimes, words are inadequate, or surplus to requirements. I am somewhere between the two at the moment, but I don’t know which. On such occasions, there’s always haiku to turn to; the classical Japanese structure of 5-7-5 syllables is a comforting small space to stuff a passing moment in the wilderness into something that might turn into posterity, or not, it doesn’t matter really.
I’ve left out the part where I was crawling around on my hands and knees in the grass trying to more successfully ‘pap’ the insect wildlife.
Bumble bee topples
over the violet petals
bristling and bulbous
A heart & a star
Both found on a wall near here. Some might say, graffiti ~ others, public art.
Don’t forget though, ‘every wall is a door…’
