an icy grip

 

  

 

 

 

“Instead of my world, there would soon be only ice, snow, stillness, death; no more violence, no war, no victims; nothing but frozen silence, absence of life."

 

Chilling words from the novel, 'Ice' by Anna Kavan. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

all that remains

 

 

 

 

all that remains

of the dying day

is

one last

brilliant

sunlit ray

 

 

 

 

a warm welcome

 

 

What a fantastic night we had!

 

The latest event in our village's Local Community Group calendar took place on Friday. A visit to what had once been a derelict local pub and which is now the beautiful home of Graham and Farah.

 

The mulled wine flowed and the 'bring and share' feast went down a treat. Regrettably, my butlering duties meant I couldn't photograph everyone who attended but hopefully the pictures below give a flavour of the night...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the ice crystals cut my eyes in two

 

 

the ice-crystals

cut

my eyes in two

 

I looked from one

and I saw the surface veins

of the last leaves left

 

and I looked from the other

and I saw

the coal-black depth

of frozen water