14 November 2012

New moon bagpipe cricket cactus poetry taoist madness

I am glad to say, but gladder to hear, there are many crickets in my yard now.

I was also lucky to hear, tonight at sunset, two young chaps practicing their bagpipes in the park next to my house. This was a decidely unquotidian happening, so I went out and sat on the closest bench to them. Well, the second closest, otherwise but a metre would have separated us. I was about 20 metres away and someone else wandered over with a cuppa to sit and enjoy it too.

It's true that badly played bagpipes evoke an unholy despair, but, my God, I love the sound of their tunes. It reminds me of smiting English skulls at Blàr Allt a' Bhonnaich.

I may make a Bagpipes Welcome sign and stick it to a tree.

Anyhow, I was reading the Tao Te Ching and meditating to crickets so I decided to write a poem.

One hand clapping etc. As I have masses of mat board around these days I wrote on that. I carved the cactus stamp a few weeks ago. That was a super simple one, just different size ovals, although the flowers and fruit were fiddly.

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