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a blog about small beautiful things

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Tag Archives: woods

Boys+axe+woods=den…

Posted on July 3, 2012 by Chris Goan
3

The things you do with your day off work in the rain and the midgie woods!

You take your lad for a walk and make a shelter of course.

And you put it in the treasure box of memories.

Posted in wilderness | Tagged dads and lads, den, shelter, woods | 3 Replies

The spaces in between…

Posted on March 19, 2012 by Chris Goan
1

Light falls like amber on the beckoning beyond

Over the shoulder of these trees

Into the secret spaces

In between

.

Piebald bank of moss and leaves

Breathes

.

Never was I so alive

Posted in photography, poetry | Tagged benmore gardens, light, rainbow, spring, trees, woods | 1 Reply

Woods

Posted on February 3, 2012 by Chris Goan
2

Hungry green shadow

Swallow me

~

Translucent leaf from falling light

Dance with me

~

Folded bark like furrowed brow

Listen to me

~

Cantilevered bough like lifting arm

Hold me

Posted in photography, poetry | Tagged birch woods, moss, poetry, spring, trees, woods | 2 Replies

Snow in the woods…

Posted on December 20, 2009 by Chris Goan
Reply

Before the rain washes away the snow, here are a few shots from a walk in the woods behind our house…

Lovely.

Posted in photography, wilderness | Tagged hunters quay, photography, snow, woods | Leave a reply

Boys- one half monkey, the other half explorer…

Posted on October 17, 2009 by Chris Goan
1

Some shots of Will and his friend Euan in the wild woods…

boys on a mission

monkeys

where the wild things are

Posted in photography | Tagged adventure, small boys, woods | 1 Reply

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Traveling home by submarine.
Been playing with the seedsnap ap to see how it might help mess about with poetry. It might become a thing... #poetry #seatree
Setting up shop @etsymadelocal. Brilliant day, but VERY cold! #seatreeargyll
Leaving the house at dawn for a shipping job. Minus 3 degrees. Ice crusting the boat. Still-red horizon line. Letting go lines then heading back to the land.
Being a middle aged father means doing DIY for your kids. If that sounds like a winge, it isn't really, because seeing your kids set up their new homes and moving onwards into their lives is nothing but joy. However, one of mine lives on a boat and the other lives in a van. I have raised a pair of itinerant souls. This too is a blessing, as this poem suggests... Lord, stain me with salt Brine me with the badge of the deep sea sailor I have spent too long On concrete ground If hope raises up these tattered sails Will you send for me A fair and steady wind?
Three almost-clocks coming to a mantlepiece near you ..
Every beach should have one.
Very grateful that photo 1 could be followed by photo 2.
Findhorn. Push and pull. Rise and fall. The rush forward them the chattering retreat. Stones sheened like fresh glass.
Greylags gather, honking out who knows what, heading for their winter wait, held down only by the folded wing tips of their companions close on each side... and as for us, we watch, held in the skein of tender years.

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