4th January 2016
My new home is on the edge of things, which suits me well.
It has a sweeping, eastward view from my bedroom window, and since the New Year there have been some staggering sunrises.
Sunrises - and sunsets even more so - are widely regarded as one of the great clichés of art. I remember learning a passage from Turgenev's 'Fathers and Sons' by heart - in Russian - for my final in Russian 19th century literature, in which the sunset represented the demise of Tsarist autocracy, which would be swept away by the revolutions of 1917. I was also once set the challenge of writing a poem that described a sunset without resorting to banality. The poem made it into print, but I'm not entirely sure I was successful.
11th February 2016 On the whole, though, I'm with E M Forster, who said 'What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?'
Although that's as in daily up till now. I don't think I'll necessarily be rising ever earlier throughout the summer to catch a glimpse of Apollo boy-racing his chariot across the Cotswolds.
So - see you in September, Helios. In the meantime, here's a few more favourite skies.
April Fool's Day 2016
13th April 2016
14th April 2016
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