This one was inspired by an object shown to me many years ago by the very knowledgable Sandy Edwards, who was curator of the Bell Pettigrew Natural History Museum at the time. Since then I have (amongst other things!) spent many years being fortunate enough to do ‘media odd jobs’ for researchers involved in studying the scope and meaning of sounds made by marine mammals. My knowledge of what they do is slight, but I continue to find what they discover remarkable and inspiring.
Category Archives: nature
the shortest night
Nearly eleven p.m., dry and mild,
bright enough for reading outdoors.
Warm intimations of honeysuckle,
lemon balm, tiger lily’s sharper bite.
Sleepless through three thin hours undarkened,
fortified tea brewing dusk spun verses,
I fidget dust my tiny cabinet of
keepsakes found and curiosities kept,
rearranging these unsure talismans,
certain enough what each is, less clear why.
I find and re-read some childhood chapters,
and discover though changed they move me still.
Until, like a birthday dawn, bird sung dews
condense fresh light from thin and unslept airs.
A wee oddity written in response to a ‘reading in both directions’ prompt. It seemed appropriate to post this week.
R.I.P. Professor Stephen Hawking, 8 January 1942 – 14 March 2018.
sweeteternity makes a fine Dundee cake,andeverything that exists at any momentisone single sampled quantum of fruit
Buddhists say time is an illusion,
althoughwe learn how to tell timetime always tells on usalthough
Buddhists say time is an illusion,
one ticky fruity nugget tastediseverything everywhere nowandeternity makes a fine Dundee cake,precious
ticky: a little piece (Dundonian)
In November there will be an exhibition at St Margaret’s House in Edinburgh called Grown Together. Timed to coincide with the launch of the Tree Charter, this will feature the work of nineteen artists with a shared interest in trees. I’ve been working on video material for a loop which will be part of a small installation. The videos combine ambient audio captured in some local woodlands with animated text and readings of some of my poems from the small collection called Drawing breath.
Here’s a test piece for one of my videos. (Please ignore the headphone graphic near the start – it’s just there to indicate that there is audio to passing visitors).
The poem takes a tree’s-eye-view of passing humans, coming around to memory and how remembering works, or doesn’t…
I originally wrote this intending to send it in to Visual Verse for a great image of a horse by Bruce Connew. I never got around to it, and I’d forgotten about the poem until I happened on it today. Anyway, I still kinda like it, I hope you will too. As often from me, there’s also some sciencey inspiration – see below…
Karen McComb, who heads the research group and co-lead author of the study, said “Horses may have adopted an ancestral ability for reading emotional cues in other horses to respond appropriately to human facial expressions during their co-evolution. Alternatively, individual horses may have learned to interpret human expressions during their own lifetime.”
Source: ‘Horses can recognise human emotion, study shows’ Guardian 10/2/2016
scary sounds tinder
my right brain.
my left eye
you. your voice. angry. anger. danger. is it?
do i? do we? does the herd?
set, set, set.
my heart revs.
a dren a lin.
ready, twitch, ready.
time made your mood our threat.
your anger the wolf on the prairie.
your impatience an adder under-grass.
your oath hard iron in flight.
so if you don’t need to, just don’t.
step calm. breathe gentle.
speak less. listen more.
hear. my. gaze.