Everytime I see "Barnhill" and The Visual ...

All Alone Am I, Brenda Lee

More Whitby Memories

From another site:

Scoresby became Vicar of Bradford -- where his parishioners included the Reverend Patrick Brontë of Haworth village, and his young daughters -- wow, wow, wow; "Scoresby turned his scientific attention to the mysterious forces of mesmerism; instead of dealing in oil and whalebone, Whitby now traded in jewellery carved from the shiny black jet found it its cliffs and made mournfully fashionable by a perennially grieving queen."

I still remember -- vividly -- the black jet small cross that I bought in Whitby for our older daughter.

Idle Chatter: Yorkshire, and Cape Cod, and Ten New Songs

After almost a decade of an aggressive reading program, I think I am most fortunate to have spent so much time in Yorkshire, and interestingly enough, Cape Cod. Much of western world history has its roots in Scotland and Yorkshire; and surprisingly, one can say the same for Cape Cod.

I wrote this random now while reading Philip Hoare's The Whale and listening to Leonard Cohen's Ten New Songs. Sublime.

Whitby Memories

From another post:

Burton Constable --> Bridlington --> Filey --> Scarborough (I hiked this area some years ago); "If the past is a contraction of what has passed, then the future exists only if we imagine it."; giant white golf balls of Fylingdales listening station; Whitby; author's great-grandfather emigrated from Ireland, ended up in Whitby; grandfather raised in Whitby; Bram Stoker living in Whitby at the time.

The halcyon days of Yorkshire. We were so fortunate to have that time together. 

Gentle On My Mind.

Link to an earlier post. The feelings have not changed.