Rebabative: Climate worries


-Repelled by Mankind’s treatment of-Earth, our liveable home which -By our nature and greedy consumption  -Across our planet we-Readily commit to global warming-Bringing temperature extremes -And raising our ocean’s levels bringing-Territory flooding, land and species loss. -Instruct our leader’s to heed scientists-Very seriously, helping  next generations-Embrace and protect our only world.
rebarbative | rɪˈbɑːbətɪv | adjective formal unattractive and objectionable: rebarbative modern buildings. ORIGIN
late 19th century: from French rébarbatif, -ive, from Old French se rebarber ‘face each other ‘beard to beard’ aggressively’, from barbe ‘beard’.

I was given the word  above. ' Rebarbative ' from a friend, who heard it during a lecture, where clearly the speaker had swallowed a lexicon.
No I did not  know this word either, so I have included the definition above.

Now that Brexit has been renewed for another season, we can deal with the real problem, which doesn't jus…

Highs and Lows:The Sprung of Spring

Highs and Lows With the start of the grass flat season today (30/03/'19 ) some words about National Hunt Racing.

Inwardly we feel excitement but in life the  pulse is retrained Emotions trapped in our bodies. mostly we cope with existence - It will do for now.
So at times  we visit a theatre of dreams to witness equine heroes in action. All is a dance,  a choreography of moment  the parade;  the selection;  the speculation  anticipation,  greed;
  joining a tribal affair.

All eyes, binoculars, glasses on the start.
(to be read in a gallop )

Their off!” And so are we,  straining; peering  watching  voices released  groaning  encouraging
It’s the final lap.
anxious  crowd pulsing,  willing their mount or not.
The final phase .

Crowd find their voices crescendo building  tension release yelling screaming cursing. nothing controlled A highly animated  outburst. crying the behaviour tolerated a bubble has burst.

( to be read as a quiet canter )

Festival of Lights: Football Half-time.

A short while ago I showed you a photo of the giant wheel in Cheltenham Imperial Gardens. This was part of the festival of lights. 
Last night ( 22/02/'19 ) I ventured forth in the evening and took some photos of  those  magical lights: here are my best shots.

The Queen's Hotel at the top of the Promenade.

The wheel looking down from the Queen's.

Cheltenham Muncipal Building.

The Fountains in Blue.

Promenade views.

I hope very much  that this, very successful venture becomes an annual festival; switching the lights on before the Cheltenham National Hunt Festival in March.

With the football season well past the halfway stage, it's about time I looked back at my league predictions and checked out the winners and losers.
Premier League
My placingActual placing.

1st Manchester City         2nd
2nd Liverpool                   1st
3rd   Man

Sprung: The Mount: Black and White

It is hard to believe that I am typing this on February 15th 2019 ; so warm (15C), has it been.
 Indeed, as the bottom right photograph shows, crocuses have come out to play in time for Valentines Day.

Normally,  in the past with half-term coming next week, I would be concerned with the freezing nightly conditions and even the appearance of the treacherous black ice.

It is ironic with the recent outbreak of equine 'flu in some stables, there has been some cancellations of horse-race meetings and although this matter has hopefully been curtailed , with the big Cheltenham Festival, only a few weeks away and the prospect of good fast ground, nerves in some places, are a little taut.


The Mount
Rising up on a mound at the end of the Gloucestershire village of Stanton, ( which is itself near the town of Broadway,)  is the delightful village public house, "The Mount."
On the aforementioned day D. and I visited this establishment. All was in 'apple-pie ' order, spr…

The Silence: Wheel of Fortune

The Silence

The first fold of the newspaper
brings that crispness.
So it is with newly-fallen snow, as
alien-like I move, as in a sealed
vacuum .

The frozen ground bears witness 
to an identify crisis;  for what denizens 
of nature have marked their progress
upon this chalky surface?
Silence is sharp and wind cutting,
but cracked open with boots  as they
penetrate that whiteness and make their
mark, passing by the cathedral- like

Those  guardians of knowledge
the trees, stand naked, but
triumphant, erect or bent 
sounding a coda to winter-times.

Dormant they may appear,  but underneath they await the shoots of spring as the Season's circle begins to slowly spin and unleash a future green potential.
Err I to hug a trunk, I  believe, I would hear that old refrain 'Live Long and Prosper.' as it pulses from the ancient bark and swallows a dose of dioxide of carbon  liberating oxygen which we all gratefully breathe and silently applaud .

Words CurlyKale 01/02/'19: Photos KB ( Brockwoth estate .)

Rugby; Light: Trees

Glos Rugby
Rising from the Shed voices full of glee, All the rolling RRRRs are in ascendency.
Through muck, sweat, grime and mud, Blood and bandages are in fullest flood.
 Pushing  and shoving  and making their way, Irresistibly forward to give them  the day.
 The line is crossed and the ball  ground, The stadium erupts in  full-throated sound.
The victory is gained; they gave them a licking,  The Cherry and Whites have made a rich picking.


Yesterday (09/ 12 /'18)  we visited Westonbirt Arboretum  to see the Christmas lights in the trees. The night was, not too cold with no rain so,  an ideal temperature for walking the especially prepared mile circuit. To avoid crowd buildup, we were given an allotted time. In our case 17:40.
Here are some shots I took of the trees.

Autumn Glow

Autumn Glow
A butterfly pirouetted in corn stalks. What I wondered was it doing
     in this late October day?
I had reached my beeches, for another  year of wonder.

I walked, or rather stumbled along the dusty track and looked  over at the land
meeting the horizon in gentle wold folds.
It was quiet enough to hear nature in the raw.
Birds flew disturbed from the trees while insects hummed and buzzed an autumn symphony.
Ahead, along the path lay   Notgrove or was it Nutwood 
in Rupert Bear land?

Stepping into the grove,
 a tree-world  filled with leaf 
encrusted paths and I felt a
 zephyr of wind
 move the evergreen leaves.

They seemed to make music,  far above my hearing range dancing notes that swayed
 in graceful leaf minuets. 
 Spiders groomed
and cobwebs swoomed
laying down their traps.

 Leaves were falling and
sprawling to be received
 by the ground underneath.
Winter would be coming
before long. 

I made my mark, not with the vigour of youth,
 but sufficient to ensure an annual pact with the soil.
 Stepping out tree-ro…