MOROCCO
Terrifa/Tanger.
Really windy.
Happy faces disembark.
Happy to be in Spain or be of the boat!
We're on, we're off.
Pregnant, purring, petted, pussies,
sitting in bowls, on chairs, in windows, waiting.
The chicken shop.
Worse the chicken plucking machine!
The fly market.
Broken backed peasant women,
labouring up the street.
The only things you will ever see
are your own trudging feet.
Strong backed peasant women on double seating,
ten whole chickens and cous cous eating.
Sometimes they get quite distraught if,
there treasures you have not bought.
Sometimes they get quite offensive if,
you say "oh that's exspensive".
Sometimes it's just best to say,
"oh how lovely", and walk away.
Because the guardia was inebreated,
we sat all morning and just waited.
He sleeps behind the door,
with only cardboard on the floor.
Long backed lean lads.
Went into the medina.
Got out three years later.
Lines of men praying on mats.
The ones who have been to Mecca are
wearing white hats.
On every little patch of land,
they tend their crops with ancient hand.
Through the Sahara sands, with camels too,
guarded by young men turbaned in blue.
Into the red earthed Daades deep where,
up the mountains phallus sweep.
To the great Oasis of Qued Draa.
For every date palm tree thats grown,
lies the remains of human bone,
marked by a single standing stone.
Through the western Sahara sand , rent barren by
mans own hand.
Past a solitary Berber tent
and two camels 'whose lives were spent'.
Of all the side shows taking place in the grand plaza,
for me, the best was the performing hat.
There in the midst of the crowd was an old man with
a hat on the floor.
Out popped three pigeons, they milled around and
drank some milk from a bottle top.
Then out popped a guinie pig.
It ran hither and tither but never very far from the hat.
Then the old man reached into the hat and
produced another hat.
He placed it on the ground and it started to rush around
in all directions. After sometime the hat found the milk
and appeared to drink it.
Then the old man lifted the hat and there underneath
was a 'hedgehog!.
On silent padded feet two hundred camels passed along.
Grunting, munching and farting a desert song.
Little girl on the steet,
bitting splinters from your feet.
Whatever do you get to eat?
Is that where you have to sleep?
Bleat little kid bleat.
Tonight you are meat.
Little kid in a basket don't you know
what goes on at market!
Displayed upon the counter
with your eyes boiled white.
I just passed you by and
you gave me a fright.
A hundred thousand graves,
surround the walls of Fes.
Each one marked with stones of white
to commemorate the dead.
l heard a squak,
then a chop.
l just walked past the chichen shop.
They ripped the feathers from your skin.
The one God put you in.
They used that nasty plucking machine.
Then sold you for tonights targine.
l felt sorry for the chicks who fell of that lorry.
They were ever so plump and just went plop.
The lorry kept going and did not stop.
All along the road they were.
Little clumps of yellow fur.
If l had understood what he was saying,
l might have said " no "
What struck me most about beautifull, stunning, milk
and honey Morroco were the 'rocks'!
Wednesday, 27 April 2016
Friday, 22 April 2016
A TANGLE OF SERPENTS
A neighbour of mine was telling me the other day, that she has, whilst
walking in the orange groves, come across a nasty water channel that
emptys into a round tank , where the water is pushed and sucked down
into an underground pipe. The action of the water creates a whirlpool.
As is her habit, always looking for creatures to rescue, she peered in,
thinking 'puppies and kittens' but instead found a tiny terrapin swirling
around inside. Diving her hand in she rescued it. So each time she passed
by, she checked saving terrapins, toads and frogs from drowning!
So l took up the banner, as she has recently moved. My fist visit saved
another terrapin, then a beautiful camouflaged common toad. Next a
singing pond frog and two more terrapins. It has become somewhat an
addiction, l look forward to my rescue work.
l try daily to visit the water trap. One day l expectently looked in to the
gloomy hellhole, my eyes ajusting to the dark, there feebly trying to
raise it's head was a snake. My toes curled but a saviour must save.
How best to do the job l thought, as l was not going to thrust my
hand into the foaming water. luckily there is a lot of cane growing nearby,
breaking a piece off, which had a bit of root on the end, l managed to hook
the limp creature to safety. lt took some moments to get its breath then
it was gone.
Each and every visit there has been some poor animal to hook out.
Once l left with a pocket full of terrapins. l let them go in a more gentle pool.
One night l pulled out four more snakes. They are viperines ( water snakes),
they are happy in the water but get trapped in the tank. l missed a few days
and eagerly returned. First a frog then two more viperines then a terrapin,
quite a big one , next two more snakes. Thinking that that was it, it was
getting dark, l saw in the depleating light yet another snake, dipping my stick
in l managed to hook it on but as l gently lifted it out thinking that it had a lot
of debris attached, tipping it out there where in fact a tangle of five
serpents!
My God how many poor creatures pour down that watery hole ?
A neighbour of mine was telling me the other day, that she has, whilst
walking in the orange groves, come across a nasty water channel that
emptys into a round tank , where the water is pushed and sucked down
into an underground pipe. The action of the water creates a whirlpool.
As is her habit, always looking for creatures to rescue, she peered in,
thinking 'puppies and kittens' but instead found a tiny terrapin swirling
around inside. Diving her hand in she rescued it. So each time she passed
by, she checked saving terrapins, toads and frogs from drowning!
So l took up the banner, as she has recently moved. My fist visit saved
another terrapin, then a beautiful camouflaged common toad. Next a
singing pond frog and two more terrapins. It has become somewhat an
addiction, l look forward to my rescue work.
l try daily to visit the water trap. One day l expectently looked in to the
gloomy hellhole, my eyes ajusting to the dark, there feebly trying to
raise it's head was a snake. My toes curled but a saviour must save.
How best to do the job l thought, as l was not going to thrust my
hand into the foaming water. luckily there is a lot of cane growing nearby,
breaking a piece off, which had a bit of root on the end, l managed to hook
the limp creature to safety. lt took some moments to get its breath then
it was gone.
Each and every visit there has been some poor animal to hook out.
Once l left with a pocket full of terrapins. l let them go in a more gentle pool.
One night l pulled out four more snakes. They are viperines ( water snakes),
they are happy in the water but get trapped in the tank. l missed a few days
and eagerly returned. First a frog then two more viperines then a terrapin,
quite a big one , next two more snakes. Thinking that that was it, it was
getting dark, l saw in the depleating light yet another snake, dipping my stick
in l managed to hook it on but as l gently lifted it out thinking that it had a lot
of debris attached, tipping it out there where in fact a tangle of five
serpents!
My God how many poor creatures pour down that watery hole ?
Wednesday, 16 March 2016
TO KILL A HOOPOE BIRD.
My grandaughter came running in to me the other day, slipping her
hand into mine she said "Come and see the dead bird". So l did.
She had been cleaning out 'Bone crunchers house' and found a dead
bird. It must have been there for sometime as it had lost most of its
feathers and head but retained a mummified pair of legs that looked
like a small plucked chicken! It could have been a hoopoe.
Once l did find the perfect mummified hoopoe. l found it hanging
in the cactus patch. lts crest was up and its wings were outstretched,
as if in flight. Complete with feathers. What a superb dried out bird
it was. l sent it to my nephews.
We get hoopoes here all year round. Normaly one can hear them
calling, with their hoopoe poo pooe song, hence the name. Or see
them fluttering by, with that eratic flight of theirs. They are also often
seen on the ground probing for insects with that long curved beak.
They have a pinky cinnamon plumage with dark bars on the wings,
head and tail. They also have a cockatoo crest, that flicks up and down
while it is busy. They eat insects, such as grubs, ants, worms, centipedes,
woodlice ect:
Recently a friend came to stay. He was an enthusiastic' twitcher' and
was off 'twitching' with binoculars and camera. Eventually he returned
greatly excited with a short video he had managed to 'shoot' of a hoopoe
in the orange groves. I was surprised that he had got so close to it, they
are very shy. It was a lovely little film of it walking about, its crest rising
and falling. We watched the film several times, then he left again to go
and see if it was still there.
He returned but this time handed me a beautiful dead hoope! burieh" l said
"whatever has happened"? He replied that when he had returned to the spot
he found the hoopoe was dead, it was still warm. He looked close to tears.
We inspected it and sure enough there were signs of injury to the plump
little body. Who or what had inflicted them, we were not to know. He thaught
it had been shot!
What a stunningly exotic bird. So we buried it under the geraniums and
felt sad.
My grandaughter came running in to me the other day, slipping her
hand into mine she said "Come and see the dead bird". So l did.
She had been cleaning out 'Bone crunchers house' and found a dead
bird. It must have been there for sometime as it had lost most of its
feathers and head but retained a mummified pair of legs that looked
like a small plucked chicken! It could have been a hoopoe.
Once l did find the perfect mummified hoopoe. l found it hanging
in the cactus patch. lts crest was up and its wings were outstretched,
as if in flight. Complete with feathers. What a superb dried out bird
it was. l sent it to my nephews.
We get hoopoes here all year round. Normaly one can hear them
calling, with their hoopoe poo pooe song, hence the name. Or see
them fluttering by, with that eratic flight of theirs. They are also often
seen on the ground probing for insects with that long curved beak.
They have a pinky cinnamon plumage with dark bars on the wings,
head and tail. They also have a cockatoo crest, that flicks up and down
while it is busy. They eat insects, such as grubs, ants, worms, centipedes,
woodlice ect:
Recently a friend came to stay. He was an enthusiastic' twitcher' and
was off 'twitching' with binoculars and camera. Eventually he returned
greatly excited with a short video he had managed to 'shoot' of a hoopoe
in the orange groves. I was surprised that he had got so close to it, they
are very shy. It was a lovely little film of it walking about, its crest rising
and falling. We watched the film several times, then he left again to go
and see if it was still there.
He returned but this time handed me a beautiful dead hoope! burieh" l said
"whatever has happened"? He replied that when he had returned to the spot
he found the hoopoe was dead, it was still warm. He looked close to tears.
We inspected it and sure enough there were signs of injury to the plump
little body. Who or what had inflicted them, we were not to know. He thaught
it had been shot!
What a stunningly exotic bird. So we buried it under the geraniums and
felt sad.
Sunday, 6 March 2016
Friday, 12 February 2016
ONE FLEW OVER THE CAR BONNET!
The most romantic animal, for me here, are the wild boar or jabali in Spanish,
(sus scrota) oh those latin names again!
They are a thrill to see, having been hunted to extinction in our home land.
We have only read about them in history books and comics. (One cannot say that one
has lived in the outback of Spain untill one has encountered a WILD JABALI )
There used to be a pair of them, kept in a park in Huercal-Overa.They were very hairy
and grey, rather short in the body but huge in the head and sporting magnificent tusks.
These tusks are actually adapted canine teeth,
curving upwards from the lower jaw and downwards from the upper, passing each other
with razor sharp precision.
l have often seen there footprints in the orange groves, also where they have torn up
the ground, in their search for roots ect:. They often, in dry weather, break the irrigation
systems in their thirst for water. For this they pay a mortal price. Many a fat farmer has
rubbed his belly and rolled his eyes at the thought of roast jabali.
All my friends and neighbours have told me of sightings, up mountains, in the orange
groves, down by the dry river, trampling cabbage patches, tearing up potatoes, mashed
up on motorways and even cooling off in swimming pools. Sometimes single and sometimes in family groups, a mum and half a dozen or more stripy babies.
l was beginning to feel left out untill one evening, just as the sun was setting. l was
driving out of our local village when, one flew over the car bonnet! l was thrilled and
screamed with joy. My daughter and granddaughter, who had not seen it, wondered
what ever was wrong! It was a timeless moment, l still see the image now as it took a
flying leap right over the car.
What struck me most was its deep earthy ginger colour. It wasn't untill sometime later
that l found out why. l was out exploring one day and came across a muddy wallow. lt was
a deep terracotta colour and was full of jabali hair and footprints
The most romantic animal, for me here, are the wild boar or jabali in Spanish,
(sus scrota) oh those latin names again!
They are a thrill to see, having been hunted to extinction in our home land.
We have only read about them in history books and comics. (One cannot say that one
has lived in the outback of Spain untill one has encountered a WILD JABALI )
There used to be a pair of them, kept in a park in Huercal-Overa.They were very hairy
and grey, rather short in the body but huge in the head and sporting magnificent tusks.
These tusks are actually adapted canine teeth,
curving upwards from the lower jaw and downwards from the upper, passing each other
with razor sharp precision.
l have often seen there footprints in the orange groves, also where they have torn up
the ground, in their search for roots ect:. They often, in dry weather, break the irrigation
systems in their thirst for water. For this they pay a mortal price. Many a fat farmer has
rubbed his belly and rolled his eyes at the thought of roast jabali.
All my friends and neighbours have told me of sightings, up mountains, in the orange
groves, down by the dry river, trampling cabbage patches, tearing up potatoes, mashed
up on motorways and even cooling off in swimming pools. Sometimes single and sometimes in family groups, a mum and half a dozen or more stripy babies.
l was beginning to feel left out untill one evening, just as the sun was setting. l was
driving out of our local village when, one flew over the car bonnet! l was thrilled and
screamed with joy. My daughter and granddaughter, who had not seen it, wondered
what ever was wrong! It was a timeless moment, l still see the image now as it took a
flying leap right over the car.
What struck me most was its deep earthy ginger colour. It wasn't untill sometime later
that l found out why. l was out exploring one day and came across a muddy wallow. lt was
a deep terracotta colour and was full of jabali hair and footprints
Wednesday, 10 February 2016
OF BIRDS AND FLIES.
It's getting close to that time of year, when the summer migration
of birds will soon begin. The first to normally appear are the swallows.
I thought l could see some flying high in the sky but they turned out to
be martins. The swallows have over the last 20 years made their
appearance on or close to feb: 18th.
A couple of years ago my nephew and his girlfriend arrrived at my house
with a very young swallow chick. It had fallen from its nest onto the street,
up in Albanchez. Would l look after it ? "No" says l, "it will only die".
Disappointed by my pronouncement they asked, "what shall we feed it?",
"Flies" l said.
At first it was difficult because it wouldn't open its beak. We had to gently
prize it open, pop a freshly swatted fly in and then a drop of water,using an
old syringe. "How often do we feed it?", they asked. "All the time", l replied.
"Will you do it?", "No", says l.
They wanted to travel down to Cadiz. They took the fledgling with them.
It was wrapped in cotton wool, and they were armed with a fly swat. On the
first night it managed to get in bed with them, snuggling up to their warm
necks.
They did make it to Cadiz and arrived back a couple of days later. The little
bird was feeding fast and furiously on a diet of flies, beetles, bugs and ants,
followed by a few drops of water. It was snatching the offered insects from
their fingers as quickly as they could catch them. I had to swallow my words.
We all went back up to Albanchez and as we stopped the car, the youngster
started calling to the swallows, who were sweeping around the buildings.
Within 3 more days it learnt how to fly, by launching itself off the upstairs patio.
Soon it took to the wing, returning every half hour or so to visit. Then, within
days it was off.
Our summer visiters arrive mid feb: and leave about October after
hopefully bringing up a few broods of young. These swallows (Hirando
rustica) have a blue sheen on the back and wings, with a forked tail. The
throat is dull chestnut with a dark blue band beneath. The forehead is also
dark chestnut. They have a high metallic tweet tweet twittering song. They
construct an open saucer-shaped nest, on beams in buildings. These nests
are made of mud.
It is said that these birds bring much luck to the houses they choose to nest
in. I know of one person who was knocking the nests down because as she
said, " these filthy black birds are making a mess!
It's getting close to that time of year, when the summer migration
of birds will soon begin. The first to normally appear are the swallows.
I thought l could see some flying high in the sky but they turned out to
be martins. The swallows have over the last 20 years made their
appearance on or close to feb: 18th.
A couple of years ago my nephew and his girlfriend arrrived at my house
with a very young swallow chick. It had fallen from its nest onto the street,
up in Albanchez. Would l look after it ? "No" says l, "it will only die".
Disappointed by my pronouncement they asked, "what shall we feed it?",
"Flies" l said.
At first it was difficult because it wouldn't open its beak. We had to gently
prize it open, pop a freshly swatted fly in and then a drop of water,using an
old syringe. "How often do we feed it?", they asked. "All the time", l replied.
"Will you do it?", "No", says l.
They wanted to travel down to Cadiz. They took the fledgling with them.
It was wrapped in cotton wool, and they were armed with a fly swat. On the
first night it managed to get in bed with them, snuggling up to their warm
necks.
They did make it to Cadiz and arrived back a couple of days later. The little
bird was feeding fast and furiously on a diet of flies, beetles, bugs and ants,
followed by a few drops of water. It was snatching the offered insects from
their fingers as quickly as they could catch them. I had to swallow my words.
We all went back up to Albanchez and as we stopped the car, the youngster
started calling to the swallows, who were sweeping around the buildings.
Within 3 more days it learnt how to fly, by launching itself off the upstairs patio.
Soon it took to the wing, returning every half hour or so to visit. Then, within
days it was off.
Our summer visiters arrive mid feb: and leave about October after
hopefully bringing up a few broods of young. These swallows (Hirando
rustica) have a blue sheen on the back and wings, with a forked tail. The
throat is dull chestnut with a dark blue band beneath. The forehead is also
dark chestnut. They have a high metallic tweet tweet twittering song. They
construct an open saucer-shaped nest, on beams in buildings. These nests
are made of mud.
It is said that these birds bring much luck to the houses they choose to nest
in. I know of one person who was knocking the nests down because as she
said, " these filthy black birds are making a mess!
Sunday, 27 December 2015
THE MANY LAYERS OF CHRISTMAS
Peel back the many layers of Christmas and we find a whole
host of rites and rituals connected to the olde agricultural calender.
The winter solstice being the culmination of the year gone by and the
beginning of the new. They are often called Pagan, "Paganus" pertaining
to the countryside, yule time meaning the wheel ! It is usually said that
there are 12 days to Christmas but if one includes Christmas eve, which
is the most important day/evening in, many countries, we have our
13. There are 13 luna months in the year, in fact this december has 2 full
moons. It was pope Gregory 13th who reformed the calender and dropped
13th month. There are 13 ingredients in the Christmas pudding, which should be
stirred from east to west (the path of the sun accross the skys). Later the burning
brandy burning, sybolizes the suns heat.
The Feast of Misrule, Saturnalia, or the feast of fools.From the latin "Festum
fatuorum, festum stultorum". A Roman feast in honour of the god Saturn.
The God of sown seeds. It was a great time of feasting and merry making,
when roles were reversed and it was presided over by the King of misrule, he
ruled for his short term and was then slain!.
The holly berries (female,) the mistletoe (male), symbolic of new life were
bought into the house on Christmas eve, along with the tree, symbolic of the
world tree. Incidently the Fly Agaric fungus appears under this fur tree. A favorite of
raindeer and shamens. The distinctive red and white markings so much part of
Santas outfit. The consumption of the dried fungus would bring out feelings
of flying and euphoria.!
Mistletoe is an interesting- nervine and narcotic. It is also known as "heal all",
being apparently an anti cancer herb. It comes under the rule of Freya-Frigga,
the goddess of love. It brings good luck ,love and peace. It is a parasitic plant
and is said to hold the soul of the host plant together. Legend has it that Freyas
son Bolder (God of summer), was killed by his brother Hoder, using an arrow
made from mystletoe. His death brought winter. The mystletoe, heart broken
pledged "yuletide", to kiss under the misletoe relieves the pain of loss and brings
back the light of life. In the past enemies who met under this magical plant would
lay down there arms, in a jesture of peace and goodwill.
To go wassailing,(be well). Folk would go out to the trees with a wassail cup of
mulled wine and sing to the trees, dipping in toast and blessing the trees.
In Ireland on Christmas eve they would light the (bloc na Nollag) christmas log.
The log from the year before was used to light the new one. It was also a time to
remember the dead. Candles were lit in every room to bring back the sun. The
house was white washed ready for Christmas and decorated with holly and ivy
on St Stephens day wren boys would go out with a holly bush dressed in ribbons,
and a model of a wren on top singing from door to door, where they were given,
money, cake and refreshments.
And so to the last day of Christmas,(womens day in Ireland). The day of the three
kings , when the children received gifts.
Peel back the many layers of Christmas and we find a whole
host of rites and rituals connected to the olde agricultural calender.
The winter solstice being the culmination of the year gone by and the
beginning of the new. They are often called Pagan, "Paganus" pertaining
to the countryside, yule time meaning the wheel ! It is usually said that
there are 12 days to Christmas but if one includes Christmas eve, which
is the most important day/evening in, many countries, we have our
13. There are 13 luna months in the year, in fact this december has 2 full
moons. It was pope Gregory 13th who reformed the calender and dropped
13th month. There are 13 ingredients in the Christmas pudding, which should be
stirred from east to west (the path of the sun accross the skys). Later the burning
brandy burning, sybolizes the suns heat.
The Feast of Misrule, Saturnalia, or the feast of fools.From the latin "Festum
fatuorum, festum stultorum". A Roman feast in honour of the god Saturn.
The God of sown seeds. It was a great time of feasting and merry making,
when roles were reversed and it was presided over by the King of misrule, he
ruled for his short term and was then slain!.
The holly berries (female,) the mistletoe (male), symbolic of new life were
bought into the house on Christmas eve, along with the tree, symbolic of the
world tree. Incidently the Fly Agaric fungus appears under this fur tree. A favorite of
raindeer and shamens. The distinctive red and white markings so much part of
Santas outfit. The consumption of the dried fungus would bring out feelings
of flying and euphoria.!
Mistletoe is an interesting- nervine and narcotic. It is also known as "heal all",
being apparently an anti cancer herb. It comes under the rule of Freya-Frigga,
the goddess of love. It brings good luck ,love and peace. It is a parasitic plant
and is said to hold the soul of the host plant together. Legend has it that Freyas
son Bolder (God of summer), was killed by his brother Hoder, using an arrow
made from mystletoe. His death brought winter. The mystletoe, heart broken
pledged "yuletide", to kiss under the misletoe relieves the pain of loss and brings
back the light of life. In the past enemies who met under this magical plant would
lay down there arms, in a jesture of peace and goodwill.
To go wassailing,(be well). Folk would go out to the trees with a wassail cup of
mulled wine and sing to the trees, dipping in toast and blessing the trees.
In Ireland on Christmas eve they would light the (bloc na Nollag) christmas log.
The log from the year before was used to light the new one. It was also a time to
remember the dead. Candles were lit in every room to bring back the sun. The
house was white washed ready for Christmas and decorated with holly and ivy
on St Stephens day wren boys would go out with a holly bush dressed in ribbons,
and a model of a wren on top singing from door to door, where they were given,
money, cake and refreshments.
And so to the last day of Christmas,(womens day in Ireland). The day of the three
kings , when the children received gifts.
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