Football fans singing
warlike, slightly off key
throaty guttural sound
Concentrating more on the
manliness of voice
than the melody itself.
I love football and I’m always amused by the singing of the fans, especially now by the undergoing change as more and more women assert themselves in the support and playing of the game.
A Winter’s day ends in skeletal celebration. The sounds of birdsong echoing here and there are finally stilled by small heads folded beneath protective wings, as light succumbs to creeping darkness.
I took a walk through the woods today and saw the sheer beauty of carpets and carpets of bluebells. The woods were dark, but dabbled with sunlight and mystery. I had the distinct feeling of not being alone. The woods have that affect on me. When I’m in them I always feel I’m surrounded by presence. I have no language to articulate it. It’s not an ominous thing, just a mysterious and beautiful presence.
Light shines through, shadows give way, but it’s the door, the door that must also be opened.