The Scarecrow
All winter through I bow my head
Beneath the driving rain;
The North Wind powders me with snow
And blows me black again;
At midnight 'neath a maze of stars
I flame with glittering rime,
And stand, above the stubble, stiff
As mail at morning-prime.
But when that child called Spring, and all
His host of children, come,
Scattering their buds and dew upon
These acres of my home,
Some rapture in my rags awakes;
I lift void eyes and scan
The sky for crows, those ravening foes,
Of my strange master, Man.
I watch him striding lank behind
His clashing team, and know
Soon will the wheat swish body high
Where once lay a sterile snow;
Soon I shall gaze across a sea
Of sun-begotten grain,
Which my unflinching watch hath sealed
For harvest once again.
Walter de la Mare ~
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Many thanks to @peintre-stephane for this lovely painting from my street photo. You've really captured the joy here Stephane, thank you so much❤️
ho happy day
translated from a @itsstreetlove photo
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Steaming out of Bridgnorth Station.....4930 Hagley Hall leaving for Kidderminster
2024
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River Severn from the cathedral terrace.... Worcester
2024
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Flat Cap
Worcester~ Friar Street, 2024
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The White Swan
Bradford Street ~ Digbeth, Birmingham
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Heath Mill Lane ~ Digbeth
Birmingham ~ January 2024
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"Yes, I'm in charge here!"
Flooding on the River Severn at Worcester ~ January 2024
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Porthole windows from the footbridge spanning the iconic Selfridges store to the adjacent car park...... Birmingham
2024
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