The Darkling

dsc07246Out walking this Sunday late in November it feels as if the light of the day is already waning at just after one o’clock. I decide I’ll take some photographs for a blog post called ‘The Darkling.’ My long used phrase for this time of the year where the days are made up of progressively more darkness than light.

Feeling like I'm already walking through the twilight.

Feeling like I’m already walking through the twilight.

The year fading like the last beech leaves on the trees.

The year fading like the last beech leaves on the trees.

Then onto Greenbank Lane, past Eleanor Rathbone's house, now seriously on site.

Then onto Greenbank Lane, past Eleanor Rathbone’s house, now seriously on site.

And suddenly the day changes.

Suddenly the day changes.

So I’m not writing the same blog post any more. But one where I’m in the park on a sunny end of Autumn afternoon.

The icy hailstones and strong winds of the week have battered most of the remaining leaves off the trees.

The icy hailstones and strong winds of the week have battered most of the remaining leaves off the trees.

Most of them anyway.

Most of them anyway.

It turns out many of the leaves have blocked the culverts which carry the North and South Brooks under the park paths.

So the paths are now part of the brooks.

So the paths are now part of the brooks.

Temporarily.

Temporarily.

Next a surprise.

I'd forgotten all about it.

I’d forgotten all about it.

I’ve no doubt it’s in my diary, but in these joyously busy days of getting Coming Home going I don’t even look in my diary when I’m not working at the weekends.

So in I go to flick through LPs for a happy half hour.

So in I go to flick through LPs for a happy half hour.

When I come back out the sun is lower in the sky and the shadows are lengthening.

When I come back out the sun is lower in the sky and the shadows are lengthening.

Then I go and do what I’ve done for most of my life on Sunday afternoons. Go and have a sit on the park wall and watch the world go by.

I look at the records I've found.

I look at the records I’ve found.

Carried in my beautiful new Leeds Community Homes bag.

And read for a while.

And read for a while.

This really is a brilliant book by a wonderful storyteller we now know is really JK Rowling.

Time passes.

Time passes.

And when I walk on the darkling is really starting to gather.

And when I walk on the darkling is really starting to gather.

So beautiful that words are superfluous.dsc07275 dsc07277 dsc07279

At the far end of the lake the gulls break the Sunday afternoon stillness.dsc07282 dsc07284 dsc07286 dsc07288

Aided and abetted by father and son.

Aided and abetted by father and son.

Time to start walking home now.dsc07291 dsc07292One more piece of sunset showing off from the park.dsc07293 dsc07294It’s such a huge joy to live in Liverpool

A city full of parks.

A city full of parks.

And stories.

Stories.

And light.

And light.

Light in the darkling.

Home at four o'clock.

Home at four o’clock.

Next Sunday it will be a week darker.

Next Sunday it will be a week darker.

A good day, a darkling day.

3 thoughts on “The Darkling

  1. Helen Devries

    Lovely light….a young cousin of my husband hopes to be playing a gig in Liverpool next year with his group from Belgium: I’ll tell him to come to your blog to get an idea of what awaits him – not, I think – what he expects.

    Reply

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s