Wildlife in the city

It's the end of January, so it must be Celtic Connections, the celtic folk music festival held in Glasgow each year. We've not attended the event since 2015, how the time has flown by, but for 2020 we were lured out of our island home by the prospect of a Peatbog Faeries gig. The flight from Kirkwall to Glasgow went smoothly, as did our bus transfer into the city centre, although staring out of the bus window for signs of wildlife only yielded gulls and feral pigeons (apologies to any Larusophiles reading this). However, upon arriving at our accommodation for the weekend, we discovered a rare American visitor perched on the wall. I think this is a Blue Jay?

Also sharing the apartment were Second Born and Dr Jelly, fellow folkies hoping for a fun-filled weekend. Friday night's gig was Mànran, ably supported by Band of Burns. 

Band of Burns, a unique collaboration of 12 international artists, taking inspiration from the works of Robert Burns

Their set was eclectic and very enjoyable, ending with a Turkish version of 'Charlie is my darling', including finger cymbals!

Manran, an energetic Scottish band celebrating the 10th anniversary of their supercharged traditional folk rock

Of additional interest for us was the band's new guitarist, Aidan Moodie of local duo Gnoss.

The following day brought an opportunity for some early morning photos from our sixth floor perch.

Dr Jelly suggested a short trip to Balloch, on the edge of Loch Lomond, so we set off for Queen's Street rail station. Here's the view across Platform 8 to Platform 9, featuring some city wildlife...

A walk around Balloch Country Park yielded several highlights, including Goosanders, a Treecreeper, a Little Grebe and several Goldcrests.

Goosander

Treecreeper

A woodland residence

 That evening, the gig was at the Barrowlands Ballroom. 

The support act were The Poozies, an all-female traditional folk band. They were absolutely sensational, an irreverent, energetic group of musicians on top of their game. And we will be keenly looking for opportunities to listen to them again.

Then it was time for the Peatbog Faeries, with their particular brand of celtic fusion.

For their final song, the Peatbogs invited the Poozies back to the stage, the ladies appearing in huge blonde wigs.

For the encore, headgear was swapped, the wigs being sported by the Peatbogs!

Neil Peart, 1952 - 2020

Neil Peart , who sadly passed away earlier this month, was the drummer and lyricist with the Canadian rock band Rush. The rhythms and beats of Neil's drumming were always interesting, there was always some little quirky percussive thing going on, but for me, his wordsmithing was of an even higher standard. Here was a guy who could seemingly pen verses on any topic in a thoughtful, meaningful way, whose rhymes were soothing on the ear, and which featured some clever puns.

Phrases, a couple of lines of a verse, often whole songs, would strike a chord on first hearing, or perhaps months and years down the line, when a new situation arose to confound an expectation and needed some serious thought. 

Through the early to mid Eighties, when Our Lass and I were courting, or engaged, and even for a year of marriage, we spent a lot of time apart due to... well, I guess you could call it 'our careers'. Often at different ends of the country, occasionally in different countries, our relationship was forged by 10p pieces and good, old-fashioned pen and paper. As in any long-distance relationship, things weren't necessarily easy, and a song that often kept me sane was this gentle ballad:

As a rather naive chap, I took most news at face value and didn't look too deeply into the background. A dawning awareness that stuff might not be as it seems was epitomised by a song which was probably about the 17th Century but... hmmmmm:

 

Much later in life, when a pair of risk-averse 50 year olds were trying to decide whether to leave the comfort of suburbia, the trappings of two reasonable salaries and a slow, steady decline into our dotage, or careen off on an adventure into island life with a reduced income, increased costs and horizontal weather, another tune sprang to mind:

[Apologies to Mark at this point, if he was expecting that one to be 'Subdivisions'. I couldn't put every song in the list!]

Devoted aficionados of Imperfect and Tense may recall an early 'Stuff On My Phone' post featuring Rush which I suppose means it's the track of theirs which I listen to most. Other tracks would perhaps have been more obvious musically, but the words of this one elevate it to that position:

A question. Am I allowed a 'Serendipitously' yet? I don't think I've had one so far in 2020... Serendipitously, once in Orkney, some songs which I had been listening to for over 30 years began to take on added resonance:

Neil had obviously taken the time to experience wide open vistas and elemental forces. I like to think he would've appreciated Orkney.

And there's a few verses of another song which hold special meaning now:

I wouldn't wish to give the impression that the Book of Tense is solely populated with Rush song lyrics as a guiding principle, but sometimes a line will lodge in the memory until such time as it is needed. With drumsticks and pen, Neil Peart certainly forged his creativity closer to the heart.

Almost on the right track

By rights, this should be a Stuff On My Phone post but, perhaps unforgivably, despite the musical thread, it is not.

I awoke to darkness and the sound of a howling gale. As I attempted to gather my thoughts, a keyboard riff played across my consciousness, and what passes for my brain at five in the morning was off on a wild goose chase. I don't know about you, dear reader, but these mental gymnastics in the wee small hours are often a fruitless and exhausting exercise in not being asleep. Gah.

So...

I was in two minds which, although I do not have any truck with astrology, I am told is just typical of a Libra. On the plus side, it was only two minds, as any more and I'd maybe require counselling with something from the chemist.

But getting back to that 'So... '

A name began to emerge through the swirling veils of the past... something alliterative... Jimmy? Jimmy James? Could be?

Oh, hang on, no, here's a chorus... "Waiting for a train"... Hmmm, that sounds too 'pop' for the soulful intro I had in mind.

Ah, no, wait a minute, there are two intros with the same tune. Nice one, brain, no point in making this easy, eh? OK, let's just run through our options here...

Intro 1

Intro 2

Yup, they're not of the same vintage, are they? The first one I now recall from a mix tape which my brother made for me when I left home in 1980. That must be Mr Alliterative Name, but is it Jimmy James? The second one is definitely later, but for an answer, I will have to wait until morning and a more polite time to hit the internet.

[Later, after removing some madly-flapping silage wrap from the wire fence of the adjacent paddock, and watching a thrilling rugby semi-final] OK, pop pickers, the second song is by Australian band Flash And The Pan, and is, as several synapses had earlier figured out, "Waiting for a train" from 1983.

But the original riff I had remembered was "Why Can't We Live Together?" from 1972 by...

Timmy Thomas!

Alliteratively close, but no cigar.

Incidentally, the song writing duo behind Flash And The Pan, George Young and Harry Vanda, had been former members of The Easybeats in the 60s. They were the first rock and roll band from Australia to score an international pop hit, with "Friday On My Mind". If the words 'Young' and 'Australia' are sparking the neurons in your cerebral cortex, then yes, George is the brother of Angus and Malcolm Young of AC/DC. And George occasionally helped out his siblings in their band. But it'll be a few more hours yet before I will be Back in Black at 5am.

Wood 'n' chair

Yesterday, we invited Eagle-eyed M over to Tense Towers for a walk and some lunch. We had been swithering for some time about which day of the weekend to choose, and an ever-changing forecast didn't help. In the end we plumped for Saturday, as it looked to be drier, though windier. As an added precaution, we opted to visit Olav's Wood in South Ronaldsay, which would at least afford some shelter and, perhaps, an unusual wildlife moment.

The drive across the Churchill Barriers was thankfully uneventful, as the wind direction was northwesterly, rather than southeasterly, so no waves to worry about. In the sheltered water on the North Sea side of the barriers, Eiders, Red-breasted Mergansers and Great Northern Divers were in evidence, whilst the water-logged fields held flocks of Wigeon, Redshank and Curlew. When we arrived in the car park at the top of the wood, there were no other vehicles present. This was a bonus as the site is quite small and narrow, being nestled in a tiny valley between areas of farmland, and whilst there are numerous paths between the close-planted shrubs and trees, it is difficult to be out of earshot of other visitors. What a complete grump I'm sounding.

Donning wet weather gear (yuh-huh, an Orkney forecast of 'dry' has to be taken with a pinch of salt!), we pottered into the wood, threading our way along the damp paths, keeping our ears and eyes open. Wrens and Blackbirds were the only songsters at this point, but as we began to descend a muddy track and cross over a bridge into a conifer plantation, M picked up the tiny high-pitched calls of Goldcrests. Winding our way through the maze-like paths between the pines, we eventually fetched up by a burn, which was running quite high. We elected not to risk the stepping stones and, instead, used another footbridge to cross over to the opposite bank. Normally, at this point, we continue downstream at the water's edge, but we could see that the path was underwater in places, so we scrambled up a high bank between more conifers, emerging into an area of open rough ground.

From this vantage point, we had a good view of the valley below, which contained flocks of Greylag and Pink-footed Geese. Further east, we could see the cliffs beyond Windwick and the open sea. Keeping to the woodland edge, we continued downhill, hoping to pick up our original path by some thick Rosa rugosa hedges where one of the local bird ringers monitors the local avifauna. As we made our way through the tussocky sward, we came upon a raptor kill, a bundle of wings and feet, less the head and most of the body. Judging by the feathers, this had been a Woodcock.

Back in the valley bottom, the burn was tumbling over rock ledges in an almost waterfall-like manner.

Retracing our steps, we explored more of the conifer maze, before heading back to the top of the wood, on the way catching sight of a small flock of five Greenfinches which were foraging at the woodland edge.

Despite the time of year and the latitude, there were a few splashes of colour to be seen found. Hawthorn and wild roses were still sporting a few red berries, whilst the odd shrub was in flower and catkins were turning purple.

A leisurely lunch followed. Conversation turned to the coming year and what wildlife adventures it might hold. After sunset, M returned home and Our Lass and I had a bit of a snooze, as we had one more bit of excitement to cram into the day.

Now, normally, I'm in bed by 10pm and, at the minute, even sooner than that. But we had booked tickets to see local band The Chair who were playing a gig in the Sound Archive in Kirkwall. The venue didn't open its doors until 9pm and it was after 10 before the support act, Gnoss, finished their set. However, once the massed fiddles, banjo, guitars, accordion and drums kicked in, we were very much awake!

And the people-watching was quite interesting too.

We staggered home at 1am, so have had a very leisurely Sunday morning.

As a matter of fact, it's all dark

The only metaphorical cloud of our holiday at Bamff was the fact that we missed the Orkney Science Festival. In particular, we missed the Museum of the Moon and loads of moon-based activities throughout Stromness.

How and ever, help was at hand in the form of Classic Album Sundays. This is a concept which had not crossed my orbit through life until earlier this year, but I was amazed to discover that events happen all around the world, with folk coming together to sit down and properly listen to a vinyl record played through some top end amps and speakers. You suspect that there's glowing valves involved, rather than just a bucketful of digital sampling.

Any road, we were back home for the day after the Science Festival, and Classic Album Sunday Orkney had niftily chosen Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side Of The Moon' as its featured album for September. Not only that, forsaking its spiritual home in Grooves record shop, the venue for the event was Stromness Academy and the not-yet-dismantled Museum of the Moon.

For weeks, we'd been hearing about the huge 7 metre Moon which was to be suspended in the Academy, but that hadn't prepared us in any way for witnessing it up close and personal.

Once the heart beat sounds of the beginning of 'Dark Side...' kicked in, I closed my eyes and forgot about all extraneous distractions. When you consider how records were made back in 1973, with none of the fancy gizmos we have these days, the layers of detail contained within the album are pure joy. But the thing about Pink Floyd is, and I can't recall who originally made the assertion, there's just so much space and time in their music. The band don't try to fill up every bar of music, but allow it room to breathe. Just before the end of Side One, I remember thinking, "Heck, Adrian's got to turn the record over in a second!" Funnily enough, whilst he did this, someone's spurious ring tone sounded which, bearing in mind all the ambient noises in a Floyd album, it wasn't really out of place.

By the end of Side Two, I was very relaxed. As a mindfulness experience, it is to be recommended.

Stuff On My Phone (19)

It's been a while since the last SOMP post, and as other posts aren't exactly queueing up to splurge all over the blogosphere, here's my latest offering.

Last time out, there was a rather scientific slant to the whole thing, what with Professor Brian Cox explaining the creation of the elements within the life cycle of stars. This had me pondering some other scientists and science facts which have been included in popular music culture...

Within the lexicon that is the Tense Towers vinyl and CD collection, there loiters the 1976 Vangelis album, Albedo 0.39, named after the Earth's reflecting ability (39%). The eponymous and final track on the album features Vangelis (I presume) reading out all manner of Earth-centric scientific facts, culminating in the afore-mentioned Albedo 0.39.

In the 80s, of course, there was Dr Magnus Pyke, who featured in the Thomas Dolby hit, She Blinded Me With Science, all waving arms and booming voice.

Perhaps most famously, a sample of the voice of Professor Stephen Hawking was used on Keep Talking from Pink Floyd's 1994 The Division Bell album, having been previously used in a British Telecom television commercial.

However, the subject of this particular SOMP piece is a track found on Combination Head's 2008 album, Progress? Now, Combination Head, a band created by prog keyboard maestro Paul Birchall, aren't particularly famous, in fact, I had to send off to cdbaby in America for their first album, as it wasn't available in the UK at the time. Weirdly, some years later, I received an email to my personal address inviting me to add the sender to my LinkedIn contacts. This was a bit freaky, as LinkedIn don't operate like that, but when I realised who the sender was, it all made sense... Paul Birchall! So here's the track, it's Solid Ground and as well as some good old progressive rock keyboards, it features a few salient facts about the constitution of matter, read out by Lyn Christine (it says in the album notes).

Time stand still

Once upon a time, long long ago... well, in March of this year to be precise, I posted the second of an occasional series. It would be fair to say that I haven't been able to give the western horizon project the time it deserved in 2017.

However, in June, just prior to the Summer solstice, I snapped this image, which was posted here, showing the setting sun dipping below the horizon to the right of Wideford Hill.

Zipping forward six months, and as today is the Winter solstice, I think I need to wrap this one up, eh?

Below is a panorama from a couple of evenings ago, showing where the setting sun disappeared from view behind the farm below our home.

For those rock trivia fetishists out there (you know who you are!), the inspiration for the post title was taken from a 1980s Rush track.

Found it!

Better late than never, as they say...

Here's the link to the Beatles' programme mentioned in yesterday's blogpost:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b08tb97f/sgt-peppers-musical-revolution-with-howard-goodall

If you've not seen it, but would like to, there's a week and a half left to watch it on catch-up.

Song cycle

A few weekends ago, I was searching through catch-up tv for something interesting to watch, when I spotted a documentary about the Beatles, originally broadcast in June this year. I don't know how I missed it at the time, but no worries, that's the beauty of catch-up services.

The documentary was about the making of the Sergeant Pepper album, which is now 50 years old, and was presented by Howard Goodall. From the old Victorian poster found by John Lennon in a shop in Kent (which became the lyrics to 'Being For The Benefit of Mr Kite') to the invention of the variable speed tape machine to allow two takes at different speeds to be mixed together ('Strawberry Fields Forever'), it was a very interesting programme. The band's producer at Abbey Road studios was George Martin, who was an integral part of the creative process of recording such an innovative and ground-breaking album. Sadly, I can't find the link to the programme now, my apologies.

Then, the other evening, I was browsing through a social media feed (OK, it was Facebook), when I happened upon a link to CRMK (Community Radio Milton Keynes), which was broadcasting 'Between Two Worlds', a progressive rock show, hosted by an acquaintance from our time in MK. There was an eclectic mix of tracks, none of which I had heard before (I hadn't even heard of the bands!) and I think I will be 'tuning in' more regularly in future. Some of CRMK DJ Kev Slaymaker's shows are available on Mixcloud.

This morning, my thoughts turned to another formative music programme on the radio, Radio One's Friday Rock Show which ran from 1978 to 1993 and was broadcast between 10pm and midnight on a... you've guessed it... Friday evening. For much of the show's time, it was hosted by Tommy Vance (TV on the radio) and was essential listening after lights out. Today I have been reminiscing with the show's theme tune, 'Take It Off The Top' by Dixie Dregs and also the tune which accompanied the weekly quiz, the Friday Night Connection, 'Theme One' by Van Der Graaf Generator.

In listening to the latter, I learnt that 'Theme One' was originally written and recorded by none other than George Martin, also 50 years ago, for the launch of Radio One. Should I have known that? Probably not, I was only five years old at the time.

Stuff On My Phone (8)

I mentioned, a few SOMPs ago, that thinking of my favourite bands or artists, it is a difficult task for me to narrow down the track selection to a single song. This scenario is further complicated when, having finally made a choice, the track in question isn't then available from the media library with which one's mobile phone is aligned. This is a problem which requires a creative solution (rather than purchasing a different phone, as that would just be pandering to global consumerism).

Back in the day, when picture discs were all the rage, I bought the most pop-tastic, tune-catchingly commercial, multi-layered rock album of all time (possibly), 'Hysteria' by Def Leppard.

The Leps are a Sheffield band who were at the forefront of the new wave of British heavy metal (NWOBHM) in the late 70s and early 80s. They have gone global, had more than their fair share of tragedy and disaster, and are very much de rigueur in the Tense clan.

Certainly, as youngsters, First and Second Born were keen to explore the mysterious environment that was their dad's LP collection, and I can only assume that this picture disc was responsible for some of what followed. I suspect that if Second Born was asked to state her religion, she would devoutly admit to worshipping at the altar of Def Leppard.

Oddly enough, my favourite Leps track isn't on the 'Hysteria' album, though there are some stonking tunes on it (and seven hit singles). Nope, the song that holds me in its thrall is 'White Lightning' from the 'Adrenalize' album of 1992. This album was the first one released after the death of guitarist Steve Clark, and so featured some of his ideas and songs. His great friend and fellow Leps guitarist Phil Collen had to mimic Clark's style on the latter's guitar parts, in what must have been a poignant time in the studio.

'White Lightning' was an unfinished Steve Clark track, so Def Leppard used it to create their own tribute to their lost bandmate and his tortured soul. Whatever our temptation: alcohol, drugs, gambling or pleasures too numerous to mention, there's a salutary tale here for all of us. And a sonic smorgasbord of spine-tingling riffs from the one they called White Lightning.

But, as I said earlier, I can't download that track so, instead, it is a web link to a Youtube page (at least whilst there's still a Youtube).

Shown for illustrative purposes only - does not play (try the link above).

Stuff On My Phone (6)

I've probably mentioned before that the song list on my phone has one quirky rule... no artist can feature more than once. This paints me into a bit of a corner if a band has several tracks I like or, as in this case, several albums' worth of tracks that I adore. Yep, for those big movers in the Tense Towers CD shelves, it's a whole other order of difficulty to choose just one song. Often, I will opt for a track that wouldn't be my usual first or second choice but is, instead, a song that best captures the spirit of the band or artist. To my ears, anyway.

As this has been a weekend of remembrance for the fallen in too many wars, and as the thought takes a hold in national consciousnesses that all death in war, both military and civilian should be remembered, my choice of Rush track will perhaps not be too much of a surprise.

Coincidentally, and bringing things right up to date, as I type, Second Born is actually in China on a work assignment.

'Territories', by Rush, is from their 1985 'Power Windows' album. The lyrics resonate through the centuries. One day I hope they will be unnecessary.

Stuff On My Phone (3)

OK, I have to admit to a thing... 'Stuff On My Phone' wasn't the first choice name for this series. I know, it's a bit of a bombshell, eh? For a while, I had been toying with the idea of calling it 'A Window On My World', which was just as descriptive and does sound much more... sensible. Let's face it, that probably sealed its fate, right there. But neither were my preferred choice. However, third-placed 'Stuff On My Phone' it became.

And the mystery title... ?

One of the songs in my playlist is a bit of an anomaly, in as much as it doesn't sit particularly comfortably with the melodic/progressive rock and 60s/70s/80s pop that makes up the bulk of the list. No, that's unfair, it is very comfortable, that's what makes it different.

Let's rewind a few years. Our Lass, Second Born and I were dining at a restaurant in Aberfeldy, Perthshire. It was a very pleasant evening, the food and service were excellent, the barman created a unique and amazingly red mocktail for Our Lass, and the background music was varied and interesting in time and style. Lots of songs I knew well or had heard of, some I hadn't heard before but knew of the artist, and one song that caught my ear despite not previously having heard it or knowing who the band were. It stuck with me all evening. And the next day. And I couldn't stop humming the tune. So, somehow, I had to figure out what it was from a few vaguely-remembered bits of the lyric. Thankfully, this is the work of a few moments when there's enough Gs and bandwidth available to search the internet. Which is how I discovered the genre that is Downtempo or Trip Hop.

The band was Morcheeba and the track is 'World Looking In', a single from 2001 on the album 'Fragments Of Freedom' (2000). It's become a Go To track and I still play it a lot.

I found it on the compilation album 'Parts of the Process'

Here's the official video for the track.

As if that wasn't enough of a hook, the holiday in Aberfeldy also featured several chickens, belonging to the family who were renting us their cottage. These chickens had obviously done well out of the self-catering business, as they hung around all day, staring through the windows and doors, in the hope of shaming us into providing a few tasty morsels. Some chicken, some hope!

World looking in, indeed.

Stuff On My Phone (1)

In what I hope will be the first of an occasional series, Stuff On My Phone looks to shed a spotlight, or at least a few photons, upon the multimedia files residing on my mobile phone. Whether they be pictures, sound recordings, videos or music tracks, often there is a story behind why they are stored there. Perhaps a tenuous link, or a mere whim, nothing earth-shattering, you understand, but there'll be a reason that resonates deep within the Tense psyche. Scary, huh?

So, first up is a music track by Chris Rea, a Middlesbrough-born singer/songwriter. It is 'Stainsby Girls' from the 1985 Shamrock Diaries album, a particular favourite song of mine, which doesn't seem to have dated one bit. Although the same can't be said for the music video linked above! 

In December 1981, in a chance encounter, I met a girl on a train which was leaving Kings Cross station in London. We were both travelling back to the north east of England for Christmas and spent a happy few hours chatting to each other. She was different, out of reach, had attended a private girls' school and was now studying on the south coast, hence our paths converging at Kings Cross.

I still recall her first words to me: "Is that seat free?"

When, in 1985, Chris Rea's track was released, it brought back fond memories of that train journey... sigh.

Over the next few decades, there were various, ever more expensive, ways to store music and, sadly, I never caught up with this Chris Rea track. So, when I finally dragged myself into the 21st Century with a smart phone, it was pleasing to be able to download 'Stainsby Girls' and transport myself back to the 80s. 

Fast forward to the present day, and all I will say is:

"Happy Anniversary, pet!"

"So he laid down and he died"

Is it OK to title an obituary post with such a line, even if it is taken from the last verse of one of the recently-departed's earliest compositions?

Here are some prophetic words from 1969, which still resonate in the present, from the King Crimson track 'Epitaph', sung by Greg Lake.

"Knowledge is a deadly friend

 If no-one sets the rules.

 The fate of all mankind, I see,

 Is in the hands of fools."

On Thursday, this week, it was this song which sprung to mind in the numbing silence and hollow blackness I felt on hearing the sad news of Greg's passing. I was going to write that his voice and lyrics scripted my late teens, but that would be woefully inaccurate. Jings, the guy influenced my world view for decades, mainly along with his fellow band members of ELP (Keith Emerson and Carl Palmer) and also his song-writing collaborator Pete Sinfield.

Tonight, I'm listening to tunes from King Crimson (1969), ELP (1970-79), Greg's solo stuff (1981-83), Emerson, Lake and Powell (1986) and ELP (1992).

In 'Battlefield' from ELP's Tarkus album, it was clear that he didn't warm to war: 

"Clear the battlefield and let me see

 All the profit from our victory.

 You talk of freedom, starving children fall.

 Are you deaf when you hear the seasons call?

Religion got short shrift, too, in songs like 'Mass' (Tarkus) and 'I Believe In Father Christmas' (eventually released on Works Volume 2), but a few lines in 'Hallowed Be Thy Name' (from Works Volume 1) showed a, maybe, subtler understanding:

"You needn't be well to be wealthy

 But you've got to be whole to be holy."

There were early signs of environmentalism in 'Knife Edge' from ELP's debut album in 1970, but perhaps Greg's most ecological song was 1992's 'Black Moon' from the ELP album of the same name:

"Just take a look around the world

 The future never waits

 We're skating on thin ice

 And we're in the hands of Fate.

 What we need's a little re-direction

 To find our blue lagoon.

 You know, it wouldn't come

 A moment too soon.

 Black Moon."

Any of these lyrics would be a fitting epitaph, I reckon.

Rest in peace, Greg.

Jacob's Ladder

August has kicked off with more of those crepuscular ray evenings.

I notice that one of the colloquial names for this phenomenon is 'Jacob's Ladder', which is coincidentally the name of a track by Rush, a Canadian rock band, whose music is often entwined with happenings at Tense Towers*.

'Jacob's Ladder' is featured on their Permanent Waves album, along with 'Natural Sciences' which popped up in the Comments section of a recent blogpost, thanks to some prompting by fellow blogger Mark.

Lyrics for Jacob's Ladder.

* Most evenings, just after ten past nine, do you notice that it's 2112? No? Just me, then.

Not going to the ball

On a recent bonny day, which began with such a sunny morning, I just wanted to jump into the car, put Xanadu by Rush in the CD player and drive around the island. Yeah, I know it's not a great use of the world's finite resources and does carry an amount of carbon footprint baggage, but, man, it was really sunny.

It was a cunning plan with, as they say, one small flaw.

Although I could find the accompanying album 'A Farewell to Kings' as an LP, there was no sign of a CD. Even a thorough check of the compilation CD, 'Retrospective' revealed that it did not contain the required track.

Dang!

When I finally did go out in the car, as I drove along I began pondering about other tracks on the AFTK album. I ended up doing that thing where you know the tune and most of the verses, but have to sing it out loud all the way to the chorus before you can remember what the song is called.

"A modest man from Mandrake
Travelled rich to the city
He had a need to discover
A use for his newly-found wealth

Because he was human
Because he had goodness
Because he was moral
They called him insane

Delusions of grandeur
Visions of splendour
A manic depressive
He walks in the rain"

Some of my singing was even in tune!

"Eyes wide open
Heart undefended
Innocence untarnished

Cinderella Man... "

Yay! It's called Cinderella Man!

"Doing what you can
They can't understand what it means

Cinderella Man
Hang on to your plans
Try as they might
They cannot steal your dreams..."

Later that same day, I beat a path to an online music emporium and ordered said album. Whilst still on the web, I wondered how the Cinderella Man song came about. Intriguingly, perhaps bizarrely, it's here.

Today, the CD arrived. Tomorrow, the forecast is for wall-to-wall sunshine.

Oh, and Xanadu is based upon Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem Kubla Khan.

Warning signs?

The ageing process... what's that all about?

Forgetfulness, aches and pains, weight gain - these are things which I have thought would accompany the gentle stroll downhill into old age.

But if I really consider it (and being quite forgetful anyway, I do have to think quite hard), these symptoms have always been with me. So perhaps they're not great indicators of life changes.

As a species, we've never been very good at Time, which is a bit of a let-down when you look at the ways in which we bombard ourselves with temporal information. Calendars, clocks, watches and the omnipresent relentless display on much of our technology.

We're only here for a wee while in the big scheme of things, but to us, individually, it feels like forever. As a wiser man than me said:

However, last night, I was caught off guard by the subtleness of a few recent shifts to my behaviour, and I am now wondering whether these are actually part of my ageing process. There I was, driving into town to attend an Orkney Field Club talk, listening to a CD en route, so far, so normal. Then I considered the situation a bit more carefully.

Were the speakers belting out some heady rock anthem of yore? Melodic prog? Metal mayhem and screaming vocals? Nope, it was Adele.

Was the OFC talk about Nature, red in tooth and claw? Y'know the kind of thing...the razor sharp finality of a Peregrine falcon stooping out of a blue sky? The heart-stopping panic of a seal encircled by a pod of Orcas? Er... not exactly... it was about lichens.

I've always thought I would get around to lichens when I was no longer able to adequately see or hear the fast, whizzy things I usually watch, be they birds or dragonflies. Or to put it another way... older.

So, last night was a revelation. Lots of new words to learn, nearly 500 species of lichens to see in Orkney, as well as the expected bonus of knowing that lichens don't fly away. Unless it's really, really windy.

Today, there was field trip to Finstown Community Garden to look at lichens up close and personal. And it is up close and personal! We must've looked an odd bunch, with hand lenses deployed, noses pressed up against trees and stone walls. It was as if we'd all been told to stand in the corner and not look at the rest of the class.

I couldn't keep up with the steady stream of Latin names, but I did make a valiant effort to remember the various groups of lichen types we saw:

Crust forming  - crustose

Leafy - foliose

Shrubby - fruticose

Script-like - lirellate

With only my phone to act as a camera, my photos weren't great. But here's the most amazing thing, where two different species of lichen met, the border between the two often showed distinct signs of conflict.

So even with lichens, Nature is red in tooth and claw!