Tuesday, August 21, 2007

From Glen to Glen

Borrowdale, Cumberland.
photo by Tony Rostron.

Last week, I stood in a square below the limestone walls of an old hill fort and watched a military tattoo.

Fife and drums in the gloaming.

Sudden notes like a sweet flight of birds, sound like the beating of my heart.

The lap-lap of seas below the aching beauty of the Boat Song.

And they played Londonderry Air - like a prophecy.

Sunset ceremony. A lone piper on the parapet when the light faded like fairy gold.

Last night, the wind off the small isles carried a secret chill. Cold as a dying lover's kiss.

Summer is spent.

Like leaves.


December/Stacia said...

I love tattoos. Hubs keeps promising me he'll take me to Edinburgh one year for the big one there.

Bernita said...

Hold him to it, December. Demand it.

Erik Ivan James said...

Yes, summer is nearly spent. But Thansgiving follows.

Ric said...

A small fire to take the chill off. Flannel shirt retrieved from deep in the closet. Dawn comes dark and gray. Feeling as old as the season.

Nice visuals, Bernita.

Church Lady said...

Autumn is my favorite season. I simply can't wait for the photos Bernita will be posting!

Beautiful imagery and visuals. I love this:

..the wind off the small isles carried a secret chill. Cold as a dying lover's kiss.
Summer is spent.


writtenwyrdd said...

"when the light faded like fairy gold..." I loved that line!

I'd never heard the term tattoo for a military cadence before. Not sure what the ceremony is that goes with it, even after wasting 20 minutes on the web!

Bernita said...

For the moment, Erik, that does not assuage the sense of loss for all the golden afternoons.

Thank you, Ric. And the birds are foregathering - too soon, it seems.

Glad it engaged you, Chris.

Thank you, Written.
Imagine a formalized parade square tactical drill, rank and file.

writtenwyrdd said...

Okay, thanks. I think I saw one in front of Buckinham Palace once. It wasn't a changing of the guard, it was for some special day or other.

sex scenes at starbucks said...

I saw your comment at the e-spec blog. I'd love to take a look at anything you've got, Bernita, even if it's appeared here. Send it to our regular submissions address, but just put attn: Betsy in the re: line.

We have an attorney on staff and he always errs on the side of safety when it comes to prepublished stuff--hense our guidelines.

sex scenes at starbucks said...

Well, that last comment totally was off-topic. Our local HS marching band has been practicing in the park and all around town you can hear their invigorating beat.

Bernita said...

Holy crap!
Thank you, SS!
There's one that might not be too pallid...

"invigorating..." That sounds...um...diplomatic.

Jaye Wells said...

I think my father-in-law just got back from going to the big one in Edinburgh. He came back with a sinus infection and a smile on his face.

Gabriele C. said...


We had no summer this year, only some summer days. I hope for a golden autumn now.

raine said...

Last night, the wind off the small isles carried a secret chill.

Yes, feeling it here too. A wistful sigh in the song. Too soon.
Beautiful, Bernita.

sex scenes at starbucks said...

I actually like marching bands and strong drumbeats. As for approaching fall, it's going to be 100 here today and I'll be at the pool!

Bernita said...

"He came back with a sinus infection and a smile on his face"...
Jaye, I'm left with a faint sense of non sequitur here...

Thank you, Gabriele. It was.
Hope you have an autumn that's butter soft to make up for it.

Raine, thank you.
I always feel a sense of melancholy, almost betrayal, when the light and air changes.

Bernita said...

I'm quite fond of them too, SS. There's a certain disciplined exuberance.
And last night here, the temperature was about 60 F.

Dave said...

The Summer Knows

The summer smiles, the summer knows, and unashamed, she sheds her clothes.
The summer smoothes the restless sky,
And lovingly she warms the sand on which you lie.
The summer knows, the summer's wise, she sees the doubts within your eyes,
And so she takes her summertime, tells the moon to wait and the sun to linger,
Twist the world around her summer finger.
Lets you see the wonder of it all,
And if you learned your lesson well,
There's little more for her to tell,
One last caress, it's time to dress for fall.

music by Michel Legrand
lyrics by Marilyn and Alan Bergman

Bernita said...

Thank you, Dave.

Carla said...

Lovely phrases.
Rather a nice photo, too - I think I've climbed every hill in the picture :-)
Happy anniversary for yesterday!

Bernita said...

Thank you, Carla.
Lucky person!

The Anti-Wife said...

Ahhhhhhh! Fall is my favorite! Lovely descriptions.

Charles Gramlich said...

That's one beautiful Glen. I think I've dreamed of it before. A summer there would be heavenly.

SzélsőFa said...

I enjoyed it thoroughly, altough I admit that I had to read through the comments to find out what the term 'tattoo' had to do with soldiers, heehee.

Summer's fading away here as well.

Bernita said...

Thank you, AW.

It is indeed, Charles, beautiful like a memory.

Sorry, Szelsofa, it never occurred to me the term might be unfamiliar.

Anonymous said...

I just don't understand those people who reminisce about 32 degrees.

Autumn just seems so much more reasonable.

Bernita said...

For me, Seeley, 32 is a kill point.