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Golden Clippings

It’s here…

Available on Amazon from today

 

A specially selected collection of stories and poems, showcasing the talents of members of the thriving writing group, ThirskWriteNow, produced in celebration of the group’s fifth anniversary in September 2016.
Covering virtually every genre, this eclectic mix is guaranteed to delight the most demanding of readers. Step inside and prepare to be be transported, tantalised, amused, intrigued.

Look inside this book.

 Golden Clippings

Time Slip

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Tomorrow (Thursday) is the autumnal equinox, equal day and night, and marks the last day of summer. The days become shorter as we slip into autumn and approach the Winter Solstice in December. And for some it is a time for celebration.

In pagan mythology the equinox is called Mabon when thanks are given for summer and tribute is paid to the coming darkness. Wiccan festivals include building an altar with offerings of fruit and vegetables; druids gather at Stonehenge to watch the sun rise; the church celebrates Harvest Festival towards the end of September; the Chinese hold a Moon Festival during September; Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year holiday also begins tomorrow.

However, and certainly in recent years, it seems the last days of summer are marked in another way – preparing for Christmas. Yes folks, it may only be September but it’s started already. For weeks trees, lights and decorations have been going up in garden centres, cards hit the shops ages ago, now foodie goodies are on the supermarket shelves (some with a pre Xmas ‘best by’ date); and all before we have even got to Halloween or Bonfire Night. ‘Christmas’ is well and truly out of control.

Perhaps we should move the seasons, shift an equinox or two. Do you think it’s too early to start painting and rolling eggs?

Words and photographs Copyright © 2016 by Antony J Waller

Yorkshire Day

NIK_9355Yorkshire Day, the first day of August, a day when Yorkshire folk wear with pride the White Rose and celebrate all things Yorkshire.

A day when Yorkshire puddings are eaten, ferrets stuffed down trousers, pigeons fancied, whippets raced, flat caps thrown in the air, rhubarb thwacked and ale quaffed with much mirth and merriment.

Nowt so queer as folk, you may think.

But as we say hereabouts:-

‘Ear all, see all, say nowt,
Eyt all, sup all, pay nowt,
And if ivver tha’ does owt fer nowt
Allus do it fer thissen

‘ave a reet good (Yorkshire) day.

tintiied

 

…what can you see?

Words and photographs Copyright © 2016 by Antony J Waller

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“Brrr”. She thought it was still a tad chilly!

 

Words and photographs Copyright © 2016 by Antony J Waller

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“Searching for Utopia” by Jan Fabre, Piazza della Signoria, Firenza.

 

Photograph Copyright © 2016 by Antony J Waller

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It was late in the day and the grey clouds were threatening to close in on an enthralling afternoon’s cricket at Headingley when I heard the sound; the distinctive opening bars of the ‘Star Wars’ being played on a trumpet. Billy the trumpeter had arrived.

Now as anyone who follows cricket will know there is an honorary member of the Barmy Army and avid cricket fan who likes to take his trumpet to matches to serenade proceedings. I have often heard him at different grounds with his renditions of ‘The Great Escape’, ‘Last of the Summer Wine’ and ‘Coronation Street’ to name but a few but trying to pinpoint the source and spot him and his trumpet in the crowd is like seeking out Wally in those pictures ‘where’s Wally’.

Not this time. A quick snatch of Dvorak’s ‘New World’ followed by ‘Here comes the sun’ and suddenly there he was, on a by now sparsely populated White Rose Stand (the renamed Western Terrace), his silver trumpet glinting in a shaft of sunlight arrowing through the growing gloom, Billy the trumpeter or Billy Cooper to give him his correct name.

Shortly afterwards the final wicket went down, Sri Lanka all out for 91. Well played England (and Billy, and an honour to find you in the crowd and actually see you at last).

PS. And after play had finished for the day I saw him again, this time in front of me, walking up Headingley Mount with his trumpet in a case slung over his shoulder.

Words and photographs Copyright © 2016 by Antony J Waller

 

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