Sunday, 22 February 2009
Saturday, 21 February 2009
New Zealand law means that private houses in New Zealand are not to be built too close to the beach, nor too high. The beach belongs to everyone.
Saturday, 14 February 2009
My local area has a number of live webcams. You can even zoom and move the cameras yourself on some of them.
Friday, 13 February 2009
Thursday, 12 February 2009
When I was eleven my mum, my dad and my sister Jane
Sailed to England and back again
By day travelled around
castle, museum and mound,
And at night parked our 'van in a lane.
One day we went on a double-decker bus
To a teashop in Piccadilly Cir-cuss.
(There're no animals there -
It's a roundabout where
You can go to the movies or have lunch like us).
I was sitting giving my biscuit some bites
And watching the people and all of the sights.
A man bought a whole cake,
It was placed on a plate,
- A creamy chocolate monster, feathery light.
I watched as weaving through the shop he went
Around customers, children, a white-haired old gent.
A waitress bustled about
I shouted "Look out!"
But she bumped him. And the cake began its descent.
Now the waitress was short, perhaps not well-fed
I expect her toes would be half way down her bed.
The man was right above
She'd given him a shove, and
All that cream, all that chocolate, all right on her head!
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Monday, 9 February 2009
This is the underside of a yacht hull. I think it is a fascinating combination of colours. The primer orange has been exposed with the sanding and makes a bright eye-catching focus tempered by the plummy greys and lichen green...
Sunday, 8 February 2009
I feel I should introduce the author of the poem I damaged in my recent post...
Ilan Kroo is an interesting guy. He built a bamboo and plastic hang-glider in 1974, and managed to survive, has done a lot of research work for Boeing and is now a professor of aeronautics and astronautics at Stanford. He also has a software company and he teaches pterasaurs how to fly.
And he also writes rather good songs and poetry!
I hereby award him the prestigious Last Visible Dog Award for combining science and art, head and heart, being and doing, Yin and Yang, into his lovely poetry.
And, because, of all people, he should know what he's talking about, here is the proper version of:
Pacific waters kilometers below
And waves in clouds a thousand meters high
Stretching between edges of the globe
The oceans of the sea and of the sky.
And I float freely here above it all
Part aerodynamics, part champagne
Keeping me from danger, from the fall
Here it only pours, it doesn't rain.
And when the fuel is low and glasses dry
We sink into the thicker air below
Descending through the turbulent grey sky
The seats go up; the flaps go down; we slow.
We hit the ground, and bounce, spoilers extend,
As waking shocks the dream and brings its end.
Sunday morning early down at the park... The dew is soaking into my shoes and I welcome the cool, because all too soon it will be hot again as it's been every day for the last fortnight.
Saturday, 7 February 2009