Louis MacNiece – Snow*

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes –
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one’s hands –
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

*This is probably my favourite poem – well, certainly one of my favourites. As soon as I saw the big pink roses in the snow at the bottom of my garden, I instantly thought of it and had the idea to take a few more photos to act as a visual accompaniment to it. I just happened to have some tangerines (actually I think they’re Clementines, but who cares) on the kitchen table, and a quick rummage around in my photo archive for the last shot of the cosy fireside and hey presto! A lovely photo-poem. A ‘phoem’, if you will.

Venturing Outside

It finally stopped snowing today, so I decided to go for a walk to Belvoir Forest and take some photos. Getting there was quite difficult; the footpaths are hazardously snowbound, so trekking along the side of the road was the only way to go. Wet feet ensued, but the crisp, fresh air made it worthwhile. Here be some photos of my journey…

Snowbound

It started snowing (well, to saying ‘snow’ implies gentleness – this stuff was more like a blizzard of perpetual sleet) on Thursday night, and only just stopped today.

Eels

A friend and I went to see Eels on Thursday evening. They played in the Limelight, Belfast. As you can see, I was quite far back from the stage. I eventually managed to get a couple of closer snaps of Mark (E) when the band cheekily ran back on stage after the show for one last song; when most of the audience had already dispersed and the stage was being dismantled! Go Eels!

Leaf Detail

Feather

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.” – Emily Dickinson

Vessel

“Final report of the commercial starship Nostromo, third officer reporting. The other members of the crew, Kane, Lambert, Parker, Brett, Ash and Captain Dallas, are dead. Cargo and ship destroyed. I should reach the frontier in about six weeks. With a little luck, the network will pick me up. This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off.”