pic-fest after famine

A few days away from my (ahem!)th birthday, it's lovely to have a CD with my pix to 29th Feb, access to a computer with internet connection and time to firkle around with a blog post all at the same time...
Mad March catch-up coming up then...
These days my writing time is limited mainly to personal process/journal stuff. After a promising start on the novel early in the New Year, I've ground to a halt again - rewriting by hand is a real drag, and I discovered Mon-Thurs is the minimum commitment to keep it rolling. Which, at the moment, with work and other distractions, hasn't been realistic to sustain.
I have managed a little collaborative stuff with Crysse - live n' lippy will hopefully have new material next time we perform... and the Dreamweavers project is hopefully on track, albeit without much input from me. I am, however, as enamoured with digital image as ever... which I hope is good for the blog if nothing else.

So, some of the best pix from the last couple of months:

Wych Avon could become renowned for its water gardens if weather trends continue; I don't know what this garden was like before the rain, but I rather liked its underwater incarnation...
Not all the cars I spend my days with are like these. I could have kicked myself for missing the Rolls Royce Wraith - but it was raining, so the images wouldn't have been as good as these of the 1950s Austin Devon and the 1930s Bentley. They just don't make them like that any more... I got some good engine shots, too - but I won't bore you with those.

Weston-super-Mud is not my usual choice for coastal photography - but a bit of sun does wonders for us all! After this Sunday afternoon on the front (in January - my reward for completing my tax return), I feel much more affection for the place - it looks rather more splendid than my previous experience of it.

The English-Welsh border offered even more opportunities for happy snapping. The last time I visited Llantony Priory, favourite haunt of a dear friend, I was in the throes of a tanking hangover following a writers' weekend in Wales; sunburned, sleep deprived, and improperly shod, I simply drove most of the way through the valley - with writing stops.

I wasn't hungover this time, and being properly equipped for hill-walking makes a massive difference. Fewer writing stops this time (none), but I did take my notebook from that period, and re-read my musings high on the hillside... a very interesting experience...

I was somewhat less chipper ten hours after the photo above as we staggered down a long and winding road to the pub to cadge a lift back to Llantony (five minutes or so before closing - time enough for a swift half, though)... having managed (somehow - disorientated in the dark) to come down on the wrong side of the valley...

We wouldn't have planned to be wandering Welsh/English hills after dark - it was simply a miscalculation of time/our abilities. Equipped with a torch, extra provsions and plenty layers, it could have been much worse. The last time I was on a hill (mountain) close under the stars was in the Himalayas... so there were certainly pleasant associations to dispel any anxiety... A perfect sliver of a crescent moon appeared at dusk into dark; so romantic... The plummet in temperature about ten o'clock as the frost descended was rather less pleasant, though. Thank heavens for car heating systems!

On the theme of frost, I can't quite assimilate some of the radical changes I've made in my life - like getting up at 6.30am (OK, it's nearer 7am most days) on cold February/March mornings to take advantage of the light mornings to slot in a quick walk before work - which is morphing into a combination walk/jog to let me cover more distance in less time, and lets me have a quick scribble over my coffee while I cool down before jumping in the shower. The motivation to drag my carcass out of bed before I absolutely have to would be much harder if I lived in a town. I'm even beginning to leap out of bed (can you believe it?), eager for my circuit round the fields - and there's a dear little copse about ten minutes away. Several times my footfalls have disturbed the heron that lives there...

I haven't had many guests, but my dear friends Karen and Mike stayed a couple of weekends ago. I think Mike's snap of Karen and I attacking chocolate mousse is a great deal more flattering than the video he shot of us the following day...

To conclude this pic-fest post, a glorious sunrise on the 29th of February - the picture doesn't quite do it justice, of course...