Pond Skater

pond skater

Did not find true focus, but was pleased to meet this little fellow on his rushy, moorland pool.

The jam-making went well:



About Harry Nicholson

I'm an enameller who works with a kiln, fusing pictures in glass onto copper. I write a few poems and short stories. There is an eBook anthology of them, 'Green Linnet' on Amazon. Also a novel, 'Tom Fleck', set in the North of England of 1513 - the year of Flodden. A sequel to 'Tom Fleck' is 'The Black Caravel' published in 2016. My anthology of poems came out in 2015: 'Wandering About.' I've a blog of poems, stories and art at: https://1513fusion.wordpress.com/
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7 Responses to Pond Skater

  1. earlybird says:

    A week or so late but never mind! Your garden sounds extremely lush. I envy you the raspberries – they don’t grow well here at all. However, we do have wonderful sweet juicy tomatoes. Can’t have everything.

    Love that first photo.

  2. Patricia says:

    there is nothing better than home-made jam..

  3. I remember many hours spent watching pond skaters as a child, Harry. Free entertainment. 🙂

    Thanks for the memories.

  4. Susannah says:

    I love your pond skater picture and the soft focus and the ripples and shadows on the water, give it a ‘painterly’ look. I’ve never tried making jam. 🙂

    Thanks for sharing with I Saw Sunday, it is always good to see you Harry.

  5. We enjoy the pond skaters on our pool – unfortunately, so does Lulu, the turtle. What kind of jam? Surely not blackberry yet? I’ve eaten the odd ripe berry en passant, but there’s nowhere near a boiling for jam. We need a bit of sun to ripen them – and our tomatoes!

    • Blackcurrant – it ended up a bit stiff. We are awash with rasps and they’ve been getting jammed; results for that mix was just right, although tooth-picks are called for. Tomatoes – they look miserable – leaves are curled up. Logans are reasonable but fight for nourishment with next-door’s cupressus roots. Courgettes burgeoning. Taties great. Runner beans this year are climbing among the posh roses on the rose-arch – I’m stuck for space.

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