Warmth of the Pine

Leaf 338 – Looking Back

 

Ashikaga Shizuo - Benimashiko, or Long-tailed Rosefinch (c.1950s)

The evergreen pine is weighted with symbolism in both poetry and religion, particularly in Japan – denoting purity, resilience, and longevity.

 

 

Two young birds –

blushed by the

warmth of the pine.

 

 

 

Concentric Circles

Leaf 337 – Art Inspired

 

M.C. Escher - Rippled Surface (1950)

Two circles set vertically and overlapping, rather like a Venn diagram, is an ancient symbol for water – ‘vesica piscis’ (Latin, meaning ‘fish bladder’). The figure appears in the first proposition of Euclid’s ‘Elements’ as a means of producing an equilateral triangle (two, in fact, one mirroring the other) by means of a compass and straight edge. I first came across this symbol and its relationship to water at Glastonbury, where its stylised motif has been used to decorate the cover of the Chalice Well – a sacred spring. As such, it is also said to be a symbol of fertility, and of the divine, representing the meeting point of the spiritual and the physical, of heaven and earth (‘as above, so below’). Hence it is frequently used in Christian contexts, to depict a halo or aureola, or the ichthys – fish symbol, an early motif for denoting Christ or Christian belief/followers. I’ve often been taken by the way in which bodies of water tend to refract in concentric circles, for instance when it rains, and how when two or more such refractions meet they merge much in the same manner as this ancient geometric symbol – similar to the way in which it is depicted here, in this 1950 print by the artist, M.C. Escher, which has captured two ripples, two concentric circles on the cusp of meeting under the moon.

 

 

Concentric

circles merge –

ripples on water.

 

 

 

Saint Cuthbert

Leaf 336 – Looking Back

 

Lindisfarne, or Holy Island

Having long been fascinated by the Lindisfarne Gospels and the life of Saint Cuthbert, I visited Durham and Lindisfarne in the early 1990s. The Cathedral at Durham is one of the most imposing and atmospheric in the country, and Lindisfarne is one of the most beautiful and rugged, out-of-the-way places on the Northumbrian coast. Consequently, I’ve long thought of Cuthbert as the real patron saint of olde England.

 

 

SAINT CUTHBERT

 

Sleeping under solid stone –

 

A holy spirit

borne by the birds

over Lindisfarne.

 

 

 

Ronald Lampitt - Durham Cathedral

Lindisfarne Photograph Credit: Ian Capper (Geograph)

Night Cycle

Leaf 335 – Looking Back

 

Motorcyclist, France (1905)

In the long hot summer of 2003, I was living far out in the countryside, commuting into London each day. This entailed an eight-mile bicycle ride each morning and again each evening, which soon made me fit as a fiddle. Setting off on the bike before 5:30am, I’d usually be home around 5-6pm – except on Friday’s, when I’d spend the evening in the pub with friends and colleagues, catching one of the last trains home. Heading out into the unlit country lanes always felt mad enough, but similarly daring myself to free-wheel down steep hills in the pitch dark was always happily enervated by a little, lingering Dutch courage!

 

 

NIGHT CYCLE

 

All my faith

centred on two wheels –

clinging to my ride.

 

 

 

Free Rain

Leaf 334 – Senryu (or witty, tom-foolery)

 

Sarah Brayer - Bi Bop Puddle Hop (1994)

I realise some people think a pun is the lowest form of wit, but personally I think they are a lot of fun.

 

 

Given

free rain

running puddles.

 

 

 

Harry Wingfield - Wellington Boots

Standing on Ceremony

Leaf 333 – Looking Back

 

There is something about a solitary heron which always puts me in mind of the character of Mr Flay in Mervyn Peake’s ‘Gormenghast’ trilogy (1946-1959). This poem was inspired by a heron which I saw and photographed several years ago at Granchester meadow, near Cambridge, UK.

 

 

Standing on ceremony

amid the fen –

a frock-coated heron.

 

 

 

Photographs by Tim Chamberlain

Soba and Tatami

Leaf 332 – Looking Back

 

Takahashi Hiroaki - Country House at Negishi (c.1936)

Revisiting a restaurant, alas – in my mind only (see, Leaf 41).

 

 

Warm scent

of soba and tatami

under thatch.