The event of Winter's arrival, 7th November, Sunday

[belfastguzzi]

7th November, Sunday

 

Sun was out this morning,

but I went out mid-afternoon,

with the radio threatening deep low pressure and storm-gales approaching.

Only a few miles were intended, so I didn't take any petrol-money, nor a camera, more's the pity. I pointed the front wheel southwards for direction up, over the hills with hope for a wide panorama beyond Scrabo – of land arm, sea inlet and County Down hills (or 'mountains' to us). Or only towards growing gloom, perhaps? Actually no: no disappointment, as down across the County the far Mournes stood out in a pale but long light.

 

This afternoon's atmosphere carried a sense of Moment: the sense that today, certain seasonal change has come, after October's warnings. Colour all around was draining to bare-steel tones. In the distance, tall cloud-banks, as the radio had forecast, were bringing Winter's onset. November's cold was, as usual, biting into gloved fingers, but there was a feeling of something special from air, lough and landscape. I felt it all as invigorating, 'refreshing' more than 'cold' and so, rather than turn home, I kept going, pushing on down the Ards Peninsula. Through Kircubbin and past the Brig, I diverted at Ardkeen, to keep round the shore and into Portaferry by the hidden eastern edge. That road can be a dirt strewn farming track at the best of times and sure enough, the route was a slather of wet muck through crest and dip and turn. At Abbacy a heavy trailer, dragged around the verges, had chopped through roadside earth, squeezing displaced mud and grass slabs out into the road. You never know what's going to be around every corner of these lanes. The road-view may be short, however the bike's higher stance affords a glimpse of views that most driving through there don't quite have. One fleet picture perfectly captured the occasion. The road, the sky and the lough were almost becoming one in the grey half-light: then, over hedge in a field by the sea, was sudden contrast of bold white. There they stood, rank after rank like an army or, more appropriate, an airforce squadron. Last week I had marvellous first sight of the geese, flying V formation over Belfast.

 

After Portaferry, it was straight back: an orange idiot light joining the red idiot light's constant flashing with motive power now being provided more from fumes than petrol.

Sixty miles was just about right for a cold, unplanned, mid-afternoon jaunt on sea-lough country roads: one and a quarter hours about right to feel Winter coming in along with the evening dark. Brisk and beautiful.

[Baldini]

Lovely bit of writing BFG, thanks! Does perhaps even better without the camera? Your words evoke pictures in mind & imagination.

Cheers, have a good winter!

 

KB

[luhbo]

Some fine reading once again, thx. As Baldini said, you couldn't have pictured this experience anyway, these things literally are radio things

 

hubert

[belfastguzzi]

Some fine reading once again, thx. As Baldini said, you couldn't have pictured this experience anyway, these things literally are radio things

 

hubert

Even in another language?

I wondered about that. Photographs are a fairly universal language (ok let's not get into semiotics) but written language... more tricky – well, I only understand English, unfortunately.

 

Well done, you, on your reading.

[luhbo]

Some fine reading once again, thx. As Baldini said, you couldn't have pictured this experience anyway, these things literally are radio things

 

hubert

Even in another language? ....

 

Even more so. The less you really understand of what you read or the less you are certain of what you think the other one has written, the brighter, bigger or more colourfull your imaginations can become - or in other words - the better these imaginations will fit into your own experiencies and memories - and the more such a writing may touch you then.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rt8k6U_7u60&feature=related

 

... sadly, often enough this mechanism works the other way round much better and easier

 

hubert

[belfastguzzi]

Very well put.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIWOtiONPJY

What's all this then? I like it.

 

Even more so. The less you really understand of what you read or the less you are certain of what you think the other one has written, the brighter, bigger or more colourfull your imaginations can become - or in other words - the better these imaginations will fit into your own experiencies and memories - and the more such a writing may touch you then.

That could explain Van Morrison's songs, for example.

 

Something else that comes to mind is The Be Good Tanyas' (Frazey Ford)

style of singing. 'Horses' (Chinatown album) is lush, more so because it's mumbled, almost decipherable. I don't see it on Youtube. It's on Spotify.

Here's another: Human Thing

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gd1Ie370rHk

 

Well of course there are thousands and thousands of examples of slurred and obscured singing!

 

And try this:

 

Frazey Ford, One More Cup of Coffee:

[belfastguzzi]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Xty-kkMmKU&feature=related

[belfastguzzi]

More appropriate?

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xkvgb3EcoL8

[luhbo]

...

What's all this then? I like it.

 

....

 

Really? The text is something like "Can't you here it, how the times pass by .... the old are late, the young already old .... yesterday's today and today's soon tomorrow..." and so on. We have the right age to get the picture I think they're forbidden in Ireland, the North of GB in general - them having a fatal affection to suicidal booze orgies anyway.

 

Last year I saw him with his actual band perform on the Bamberg Dom Place. Great evening and all that, very much like a Guzzi meeting - the youngest well over 40

 

hubert

[luhbo]

...

 

 

hubert

[jrt]

[belfastguzzi]

[jrt]