Despite there being two severe weather warnings in force this morning, with ice in Devon and heavy snow in central jockland, here in the glorious southeast, Westbrook in particular, spring is in the air. It’s gorgeous, a feel ‘good to be alive’ sort of day. After such a gloomy 3 months of dark cold and yukkiness, I’m reminded of the poem ‘Autumn’ by the late (killed aged at 24), wonderful poet James Farrar.

A caravan comes up the lane: old horse cringing
Like a tired insect in its slow grief.
Bleached painted sides, lean leathern gypsy driving:
Old woman and blind son with bitter mouths curled.
Yet the lean one turns with lit face; his voice peal
‘Bound away north. Back in spring, in spring!’
‘thralled I watch them away under the hills
In the tunnel of darkness, the dying world.

Break fibre, raise and fly leaf!
Rise, in the wind’s lusting mouth sing –
Soar and shout, to the faint stars away!
I care not that night comes cold or the dead sun
Droops on the earth in the short weak day –
Back in Spring, in Spring!

About allatsea

Sixty year old master-mariner. Absolutely gorgeous. Well wedged.....when compared to a Nairobi street urchin. Sorted, in that I haven't been in court recently. Hopelessly optimistic, terminally disappointed. Good with cats and other fluffy things. No musical talent. Generous to a fault provided it's someone else's round. Political centreist with far right and left viewpoints. A green activist from the hydrocarbon position with nuclear leanings. Averse to avarice but always happy to receive lottery wins, gifts, windfalls, legacies, prizes and wet sloppy kisses.
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