impossible bluebells… a hue of blue, twixt dulcet lilac and strident sapphire
by the billion, enchantment and harmony beneath green woodland canopy
etc etc…. ha, Love em!
bluebells
Author: basgallop
woodland dance
woodland dance with lovely folk and headphones on sunday…
bluebells a bit reluctant, on account of this chill sog spring…
wood anemones tho… and the yellow ones i always call celandines (just googled, they are!!)
fab to feel squelch mud twixt toes… and hug a few majestic oaks
the woods are flourishing… hope to get there again tout suite!
… and loft jungle begun
megan: I have a big bedroom jungle at the moment!
Ooh good stuff… im a little late, its been a cold damp spring, and a little unimaginative… but anything and everything is glorious! Xx
Wild Garlic Pesto
Wild Garlic Pesto! this mornings culinary experiment in potions… one batch with nettles, one without. oooomph in a jar!
no vampires will be snogging me… well at least not this morning
i love the virulent, almost Radioactive, fairy washing up liquid absinthe GREEN of Ransoms
these gathered whilst up at mums yesterday… of course i had no bag, so fistful bushels of green coddled in my arms, a cloud of pong, as i meander stride along the willow and alder clogged banks of the River Mole… manic, deranged grin for all the surrey families… menace with foliage.
Wild Garlic Pesto and Porridge! always conjures pleasant memories of our mighty cycle ride Lands End to John O’ Groats… how can that be 8 years ago now!
mutters, must go on more adventures!… conveniently neglecting to remember i’m not long back from the Himalaya
a pleasantly erratic week, a few days off, so up to London to visit friends… out on a bike, pedaling along canals, past monuments, down residential back streets, out to the marsh lands of the north east (crested grebes!)
every park the brimful hurrah of blossoms… so many cycle routes, nowadays, London on a bike is a joy
back in sussex… first sea swim since my return, fff-ing freezing…. pottering with seedlings in the garden… trips to the tip… singing… ginormous portions of veggie lasagna with daughter
the usual cheerful sprawl of spring life
god is risen. scoff chocolate eggs…
sheltering from the rain under the tree in the garden… birdsong is all trill, hoot and chirrup
out in the woods the goddess runs amok, profound and fecund…. ah april! our splurge extravaganza in green
Baba Ganoush
Stinging Nettle Baba Ganoush! well, in truth a hummus hybrid, roast aubergine, plumped out with chick peas… olive oil, lemon, garlic and seasoning
‘Baboushka ya yay ya yay ye’… the essential ingredient, early 80’s Kate Bush, then dance, with exaggerated panache, wielding hand blender, around the kitchen… a slightly less skimpy outfit as a drab, cold rainy day here… such a revolting country. tho it makes me happy to live in a world where Baba Ganoush is a word!, such a delight to utter
surprisingly tasty dish, tho beware of the sedative nettle effect, i promptly fell asleep on the bed in the loft, sleeping beauty slumbers
first nettle harvest of the year… my ankle recovered enough for a slow jaunt up the cliffs
tingle throb, fingers fizz from a nettle sting… a fuzzy sensation that convention labels as painful… but is it?
bird song the soggy lament for this somber spring… the hillside still clad in its winter garb, branches of purple burgundy mingled with lichen green… the occasional canary custard yellow daub of gorse
look closely, the buckthorn sprays, tight clenched buds, about to kick off! next week a seethe froth of white, not yet… not quite yet
mud, mud galore, ooze slurp that keeps the score, patterned from each passing footfall
channeling a soupcon of Jack Nicholson in the Shining for the snap too!
anyway, back to tonights movie… The Yin Yang Master… a cheerful romp, loving the kung fu racoons!
when in doubt, life at a crossroads, always helpful to ask myself ‘what would kate bush do?’… cheerfully eccentric results x
milarepa, great buddhist yogi and saint, whilst meditating in his himalayan cave ate only nettle soup and promptly turned green
tulips
tulips… and my amazing chakra cuttlefish* cardigan!… created in the lab/garden shed at the precise moment the clocks changed, from woven mycelium… it is sensitive to the auric fields oscillating in tune with the earths schuman resonance… yours for the gullible price of 999 dollars, or 23 Totnes pounds, whichever is greater!?
It’s raining… again… sunday morning
*cuttlefish communicate by changing colour in tune with their emotions, how blooming cool is that!
equinox
equinox blessings! where light balances dark, ebb matches flow, stasis amongst the tumult of change
Rhythm of Blood, Rhythm of Breath, these entwined spirals, Gaia Gyre forwards
days of poise and cusp… touching earth, reaching for sky… brimful, human
in my pink wooly hat and green swim shorts, idly pushing fridge magnets together, tweaking between repulsion and attraction
cheerfully, tunelessly, humming a mash up twixt… ‘big wheel keep on turning’ and ‘…the whole world in his hands’
pondering the contents of the depleted cupboards ‘leak and potato soup or porridge for brekkie? both?’
a selfie a day keeps the doctor away, oh vanity… whats that tarot card where he holds the globe? flicks quickly through pack… two of wands! will ruminate on that energy today
anyway… things to be doing! rustle up those reluctant bones
wishing you a sumptuous day! x
Debs: Hey, which did you decide on? Leek and potato porridge? Xx 🤣
ha! yum… sadly neither, was a day of errands for mum, inevitably pfaffed too long on social media and had to skip brekkie! xx
Laurence: funny, I have been listening to this after a long period of not… synchronisation
… the first time i heard the massive attack ‘unfinished sympathy’ record…
early 90’s in the squat in Prague, had been out all night at a party, so suitably off my trolly
was being played on a cassete, blown away!
dawn, someone had a croquet set(?!), so we blearily straggled our way past the baroque statues on Karlov Most (Charles Bridge) to the little park at Na Kampe
Crusties! Croissants! Croquet!… and ha, Massive Attack
still love that album, it and screamadelica… just made you ‘Believe’
how can it be more than 30 years old?? x
pondersome
pondersome over coffee. surrender. the soft lilt of rain outside the window
music all a mingle, bossa nova interleaved with irish ballads
this tip toe whisper of spring, a hush almost on the cusp of lyricism
soil a wriggle, of roots and earthworms
chin tilted, slightly uplifted, faces echo flowers
an expectation of warmth, the gentle balm of grace
a turning
guilty
arf! not me guv. guiltily caught! peanut butter yum thumb
random oldie snap of the day… on my computer… tho have never seen it before… possibly one from my sis? late 90’s? would never behave this way in the 21st century!
such a natty dresser… stripes and tartan!
tootsies
‘ice ice baby’… Still life (as in I’m not moving much)… Sprained ankle, map and medicinal vintage squidge blackberries unearthed from distant nether region of freezer compartment… Toe helpfully indicates approx geographic region of accident, Kathmandu… Only trouble is due to slightly split bag now can’t tell which colour due to mottle bruise and which but blackberry juice? And even which ingrained Holi paint!… Bored! Cold! Home!… Oh poor footsies and tootsies!
Sarah: Ouch! Tho blackberry bag makes it look like you’ve got a giant blister ! Improve soon x
Maggie: GET YOUR FOOT OFF MY PHONE SCREEN! 
Debs: Welcome home you blackberry crusher, hopefully your tootsies will recover soon. Xxx
Amber: Welcome home dearest Richard Basgallop! Thank you so much for including us on your amzing colourful journey of late, it’s been an uplift to the soul during the dark cold wintery months. Hope you foot feels better soon and we meet on the dance floor for a Spring boogie 
holi
