Epitaph to an arboreal friend

blogging, Life, Thoughts, United Kingdom

trees.   Anne corr


Sad today,  a huge , huge branch has fallen, suggesting that the beautiful ancient tree opposite  our window may not be in the best of health.  I have spent many times underneath that tree, sharing my thoughts, my concerns, my cries.  Always I have felt the majesty of its peace help me to repair.

I fear this may be the beginning of an end. Farewell to a beautiful friend.



Art, illustration, music, United Kingdom
Original map of Kneesall 1635 with illustration of butterfly by alexander marsal 1600's/

Original map of Kneesall 1635 with illustration of butterfly by alexander marsal 1600’s

Breathe, breathe in the air
Don’t be afraid to care
Leave but don’t leave me
Look around and chose your own ground
For long you live and high you fly
And smiles you’ll give and tears you’ll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be


From Pink Floyd ‘ Breathe’

Rocking all the way home.

Art, blogging, photogaphy, poetry, United Kingdom

rock and seaweed Anne Corr

Landscape holds dominion here;

rock and light; half-light,

cloud  and shadow. Moving,

sweeping , ever-changing,

ever time-less.

I came here broken;

heart grieving life losses

(disconsolate, bereft).

Time locked down, moved on

Had gone elsewhere.  Here

I was still; silenced, petrified.


Rock, stone, light became as

near to enchantment as life.

The breath of the wind, and

flight of the mist kissed me,

mired in sadness, mourning for

what is not; fantasies

of a mortal mind.


All that has gone before;

here, remains. In heart of stone,

in the spirit of trees; blazoned

over sides of mountains,

gushing and rushing  in waterfalls

fierce as thunder.


I am rock, and stone; grass ,water,

sand and mist. Timeless, changed.


Here, and here, alone.


Sea and rock Anne Corr Rock and sea     Anne Corr


All creative endeavour here is by me, please do not copy or use it without prior consent.  Of course I mean the photos and the poem,  not the landscape itself which is its own creation and spectacularly amazing.

And if Dr Quack is reading the photo  below is for you; it proves the existence of giant mallards before they were all petrified – literally. this one is just keeping its head above water.

Giant duck of stone   Anne Corr

Giants, volcanoes and an Island of Perpetual Delight.

Life, photogaphy, travel, United Kingdom

The visibility was holding beautifully – this Island can be shrouded in mist for the whole of a weeks stay, but our luck was in.  In March you’re never without a few layers to keep out the wind, which is uncompromising, but not to have had the waterproof trousers on is a real bonus.  To know Skye is to fall in love with Skye, and like all good relationships , it just keeps on giving. On this day we saw a sea eagle in flight, a burnt out volcano and messed about in a little corner we had never yet seen which appeared to have been the burial grounds of giants. You will see what I mean from the photos.  I was seeing giants everywhere, so what with faery pools yesterday and these petrified beings today, it’s no stretch to realise we are in the land of myth and magic.

Here's my head of a giant

Here’s my head of a giant

My giants lying together in their final resting place

My giants lying together in their final resting place

Just a great view
Just a great view

panorama of the spit of land we were walking.
panorama of the spit of land we were walking.



An ordinary miracle.

Life, photogaphy

Walking may ache the soles, but certainly benefits the soul.  I am curious about the human condition, you may have picked up on this if you follow my blog.  Since losing my pigtails I have wondered about what it is that is the ‘isness’ of me, and by extension, the ‘youness’ of you. Where is the location of my personality? What is soul ? How much consiousness does a dog  have?  How much self awareness does a dog have?  My dog seems to have as much of a personality as I do, he sulks, he talks ( really), and he has days where he is willing to socialise with his canine companions and days when he is not.  So how do I know that? By living with him. And if dogs exhibit these capacities, then what about sheep and cows, birds and lizards?


As I was walking by the falls that you can see in the accompanying picture,  I was considering why water holds such a fascination for me, and I know I am not alone in that.  Water, fire , clouds are all non animal, non plant entities that fascinate, and I think that may be because they somehow connect the consciousness with a plane of thinking that elevates us beyond the everyday business of supporting ourselves.  Water moves, it’s fluidity, it’s flux are not just a metaphor of living, they ARE living.  By experiencing the ‘isness’ of water, we are in a different consciousness that is meditative, restorative.  I wonder if this is the stuff of religious ecstasy.  As I was mesmerised by the action of one small waterfall, and moved my gaze to the right, I was aware of the whole landscape in my view shifting, as though it were breathing, it moved within my looking upon it.  Now I know that that hallucination was most likely due to a slight astigmatism,  it was a product of my brain compensating for a flaw in my eyesight.  Knowing that doesn’t make the feelings of awe and contentment any less, but it does preclude the paranormal explanation of me being in a ‘magical’ situation.  For me, nature is the magic, the doorway to a consciousness that unites the livingness of everything within it. Simples.  I run to the poets, and here is Wordsworth, and an excerpt from’ LINES WRITTEN A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY, ON REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR,’  July 13, 1798.

 And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean, and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man,
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye and ear, both what they half-create,…

And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.

Faery Pools Isle of Skye

Faery Pools Isle of Skye

Me at teh Faery Pools, photographed by my husband, Chris Corr.

Me at teh Faery Pools, photographed by my husband, Chris Corr.

Autumn in Elysian fields

photogaphy, United Kingdom

The Isle of Skye does not get better than this, visibility was superb and promises the same today.  I can’t claim these photographs as mine since they belong to my husband who is justly proud of them!


photogaphy, United Kingdom

Todays walk, tough on the knees, but worth the effort.  Tired but happy!!! Arriverderci from the land of the free. 

Ship of Dreams



“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes”   Marcel Proust

This I HAVE to share with you because it is beautiful, fantastic, jaw droppingly gorgeous footage from a deep ocean exploration. That man can organise the technology and has the vision to be able to start to explore the untapped depth of our planet simply blows my mind. I find this exploration far more exciting than space travel because we live on the same planet and are so alien to all this life and science that co-habits the planet with us. If this doesn’t excite you then I have no idea what could.



David Gallo says this ““Today we’ve only explored about 3 percent of what’s out there in the ocean. Already we’ve found the world’s highest mountains, the world’s deepest valleys, underwater lakes, underwater waterfalls … . There’s still 97 percent, and either that 97 percent is empty or just full of surprises.”

Still lots to look forward to then!! And did you know that rivers run under the sea?

(Illustration by Jack Cook, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution)

A very ordinary miracle.

Art, photogaphy

Because I was playing about with my own images of trees yesterday, I was compelled to think about them leading me to consider some of the images that are more widely viewed as art.  There has been a relationship between the creative artist and trees for as long as both have existed. Mainly because we rely on each other, as animals we breathe in the oxygen they expel, and symbiotically, they use the carbon dioxide we exhale.  But the relationship is not simply giving and taking our life essence, as critical as that is to us, it is a sacred relationship, one of respect and honour, of love.  Locally, our council is installing a brand new tram system, all shiny bells and trims; the unfortunate downside to this progressive transport amenity is the demise of many of our well loved trees in our community. I have been sad to see a tiny copse at the bottom of my dog walking route be ripped down, the beautiful trees that lined the boulevard into our small town has been removed from one side of the road, so there is no longer the symmetry of sycamores blazing a trail in front of our university. I have heard so many people be struck by the strength of feeling they have experienced, being witness to the new landscaping. What they had taken for granted, enjoyed on a daily basis has been removed from them, and it hurts. When I was a young woman bought my first house in one of the cheapest parts of town. Needless to say it wasn’t pretty. What I hated was the lack of trees and greenery, the constant reminder about the cycle of seasons, the progression of life. Life is grey and unremitting without the pleasures accorded to us by seeing and smelling and touching living stuff around us. Grass, and water and trees and plants. We need them, on a daily basis. What do artists do?  They express their experience of being alive by communicating with us through the vehicle of their art. Within that expression we can learn more about how we think and feel about the world, about our place within it, how we feel about ourselves and our environments, what uplifts us, and what horrifies us. Trees seem to be a benign symbol too, offering us metaphorical images of the tree of life, which in itself may become worthy of a new blog!! For now, I want to share others’ views of trees with you. I hope you like the choices I have made, let me know what you would include. The picture at the beginning is a Monet, and I never see poplars without my thoughts turning to soldiers. Waiting soldiers.

The olive Trees was of course a Van Gogh. I love the way you can almost feel the air in this painting. And for me there is a sense of foreboding, perhaps brought to mind by the dead stump, and the counterplay of dark green with the violet.

Cezanne, a glorious study of trees living alongside the structures built by man. They aren’t hiding the house, but they do take centre stage.

This is by Egon Schiele, and even the trees he painted were youthful. Egon liked the fragility I think. These are staked, not yet able to support themselves. Maybe he felt like that too. Who doesn’t want the support of something to hold them up now and again?

More poplars,this time by the Seine. I think they are poplars, though that may be just in my mind. Once again, this makes me think of sentry duty, of waiting time, of an observance of time playing out.

This is a paper negative by an unknown artist, but I liked the grandness of the tree, how it gives shelter, and rest to the seated person.  Big trees make me feel like this, protected, small, insignificant in the scheme of things. It is a comforting feeling, as though I am in the presence of wisdom and ancient protection.


Moonlit Tree painted by a Russian Jules Olitsky.  Nothing scary about this moonlit night for me. I love the colours in the painting, how connected the tree seems to be to the night. It is solitary, and exposed but for me it expresses how essential it is to be alone sometimes. To be able to stand alone, in the dark and still feel comfortable. That is what this painting says to me.

This painted Japanese scene immortalises a view of life. There is flow in the river, and growth in the trees, colour and movement that expresses transitory joy. Lovely.

II like the scale of the trees in this hunting scene, and the naivite of the painting.

To finish up, because I could go on for ever, I have decided to leave you with this painting by Van Gogh of  tree he was particularly fond of, The Mulberry Tree. It is a fascinating insight into his view of his world. It reminds me of the story in the bible of the burning bush, though I don’t know what significance that has since I don’t know the story well. I am outside of denominational religion, but in my childhood I went to Sunday School, and this must have had an impact!  The tree Van Gogh paints is alive, almost ecstatically so. Wow!

This paining is at the Simon Norton Museum, here  “www.nortonsimon.org,”