photosworthseeing:

adventuresofalgy:

As forecast, the sunshine lasted only one day and Sunday was dismally grey, with the clouds drifting low over the hills once again. But at the very last minute before dusk, the setting sun managed to break through a wee gap in the heavy bank of cloud, and illuminated some of the ridges with a faint magenta glow. Algy perched on a cold rock to watch for a moment or two, knowing that in just a few minutes more the light and the colour would be gone…

I always love to follow Algy’s adventures and right now I would like to sit next to Algy and listen his stories in this beautiful evening mood. Algy’s assistant Jenny captured this photo and mood perfectly.

PWS – Stephi

Algy was so thrilled to see this adventure appear on @photosworthseeing!

Thank you Stephi 🙂 Algy sends you lots of very fluffy hugs, and says that you are most welcome to sit next to him any time you like, and he will tell you all his very best and fluffiest stories xx

Source: adventuresofalgy

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Algy perched near the top of a tall spruce tree in the wee wood, and gazed at the moon as she sank down through the spiky branches. He wondered whether – if he flew fast enough – he could catch her before she fell behind the dark hill beyond the trees…

adventuresofalgy:

Night was falling. Algy was feeling a little less dizzy now, so he decided to start making his way home before it got too dark to see his way. Turning his back on the great sea loch, he flew quickly through the long pass, and down onto the shores of the quiet loch. A new moon was slowly sinking into the last remains of the sunset, and everything was calm. It was an unusually beautiful evening…

Algy has learned that at least one of his Tumblr friends lives very close to the rue Alibert in Paris, and often ate in the cantine where at least 12 people were killed in the attacks last night. It was only by chance that they did not go there last night. People they know have been injured or killed. Algy won’t mention any names, but he is reblogging this calm and beautiful scene for them and for everyone directly affected by the attacks. Algy is thinking of you.

May peace be with you all, and may you find hope in this time of darkness xx

Night was falling. Algy was feeling a little less dizzy now, so he decided to start making his way home before it got too dark to see his way. Turning his back on the great sea loch, he flew quickly through the long pass, and down onto the shores of the quiet loch. A new moon was slowly sinking into the last remains of the sunset, and everything was calm. It was an unusually beautiful evening…

https://www.tumblr.com/audio_file/adventuresofalgy/85648901021/tumblr_n5j3dnptd21rruorh?plead=please-dont-download-this-or-our-lawyers-wont-let-us-host-audio

When Algy perches in his tree on a spring evening in May or June, watching the ever-changing colours of the sky as the sun sinks into the sea, these are the sounds that he hears…

On this occasion it was also raining gently – you can just hear the pitter-patter in the background.

The sun was sinking into the loch and it would soon be dark, so Algy found himself a perch for the night in a spot where he could watch the rippling water. It was a calm and peaceful evening, and Algy was happy to sit quietly there, listening to the other birds singing their bedtime songs in the woodland as the wind rustled through the still-bare branches of the trees.

When darkness fell the sky cleared for a while, and a bright half moon emerged from the clouds. Algy perched in a bush on the edge of the peat bogs and gazed at the sky, dreaming idly of all the exciting adventures he was planning. As he watched the moon rise high over the peat bogs, Algy remembered a funny little poem he had once read:

          The moon came late to a lonesome bog,
          And there sat Goggleky Gluck, the frog.
          ‘My stars!’ she cried, and veiled her face,
          ‘What very grand people they have in this place!’

“Yes, indeed!” thought Algy 🙂

[Algy is quoting the poem The Moon Came Late by the 19th century American poet Mary Mapes Dodge.]

Algy was safely back home, and it was November 5th. In Britain that means fireworks, and on this date Algy always finds a packet of magic sparklers at the foot of his tree. Unlike normal fireworks, Algy’s sparklers last for hours and hours, so he spent a very happy evening high up in his tree, oblivious to the darkness as the night closed in.

Algy had a very special card to post, so he set out towards the local postbox just as the day was drawing to a close. But the moist evening air was so heavy with the scent of the bog myrtle leaves that he became distracted. Algy knew that the post would not be uplifted until the next morning in any case, so he thought that it would be all right if he paused for a while en route, to rest on a rock and breathe in the aromatic fragrance all around him.

It had been a long day and Algy was feeling tired, so he stopped to rest in a flowery meadow, while the last of the sunshine still lit up the hillsides. The misty islands of the Inner Hebrides hovered in the distance, far beyond the deep freshwater loch that was shimmering in the evening light. A cool breeze rustled through the bracken, and Algy thought of a poem by William Cullen Bryant, which he would like to dedicate to everyone who has been suffering from the heat:

          Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou
             That cool’st the twilight of the sultry day,
          Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow:
             Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
          Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
             Roughening their crests, and scattering high their spray
          And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee
          To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea!

          Nor I alone—a thousand blossoms round
             Inhale thee in the fulness of delight;
          And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound
             Livelier, at coming of the wind of night;
          And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound,
             Lies the vast inland stretched beyond the sight.
          Go forth into the gathering shade; go forth,
          God’s blessing breathed upon the fainting earth!

          Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest,
             Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse
          The wide old wood from his majestic rest,
             Summoning from the innumerable boughs
          The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast:
             Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows.
          The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass,
          And where the o’ershadowing branches sweep the grass.

[Algy is quoting the first three verses of The Evening Wind by William Cullen Bryant.]