The dark’ning sky

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Monday 26th September 

Crisp, dancing leaves
Careening across the ground
Chased by the wind
Making a whistling sound

Those whipped-up waves
Cavorting up the beaches
Covering sand
Towards the farthest reaches

Cold, pinched faces
With hair flying awry
Out for a walk
Mindful of the dark'ning sky

Love you both so much
Precious sons
xxxxx
A chilly and blustery Porthmeor Beach
Going for a surf
Fast moving clouds
A choppy harbour
Incoming tide
Good breeze for kite surfing
White horses
Dark clouds and a little sun
Harbour waves
Becoming quite dark beyond the pier, but the sun lit up the catamaran

Everything

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Sunday 25th September 

Everything looks the same
On the outside
All appears to be okay

But everything is different
On the inside
Some things are not okay

Love you both so much
Treasured sons
xxxxx

Billowing clouds

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Saturday 24th September 

Billowing clouds
Much smaller crowds
Break in the rain
Cannot complain
Out for fresh air
Wind in your hair

Love you both so much
Precious sons
xxxxx
West Porthmeor Beach
Big, billowing clouds
Rain on the horizon
Choppy waves, with a north wind blowing
Hardy surfers and swimmers
The Island
Bright and sunny for a moment in the harbour
James Stevens No 10 lifeboat
Dark grey clouds over there; but sunshine here

A kiss in the sky

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Friday 23rd September 

A kiss in the sky
My Angel on high
Left this world to fly
On clouds he does lie
Precious sweetie pie
I smile but I sigh
And try not to cry

Love you both so much
Treasured sons
One here, one there
xxxxx
West Porthmeor
Granite cliffs
Choppy waves
Lots of surfers and swimmers
Much calmer in the harbour
A few puffy clouds on the horizon
The three arches on Smeaton’s Pier
A kiss in the sky
My Angel on high
The kiss followed us home

Perspective

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Wednesday 21st September 

Worrying
Halts your adventures
Anxiety
Overburdens imagination
Doubt
Clouds your thoughts
Heartbreak
Changes your path
Grief
Gives perspective

Love you both so much
Beloved sons
xxxxx
Walking down the hill to Porthmeor Beach
Looking towards Man’s Head
Good waves
Holidaymakers enjoying the beach
Sunny September
Harbour high tide
Quite busy in Kitty’s Corner
The slipway

Sunlight

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Tuesday 20th September 

Sunlight filters through branches
Dappling the ground below
Leaves turning ever golden
As the cooler winds blow
Soon detaching each leaf
For they dance to and fro

Love you both so much
Precious sons
xxxxx
Very still this morning

Always looking

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Sunday 18th September 

Always looking
For the existence
Of awe and wonder
Give no resistance
Just be tenacious
With added persistence

Love you both so much
Precious sons
xxxxx
Hues of blues at Porthmeor Beach
Dark clouds, but it’s sunny here
Strong colours
The Island
Still many people enjoying the beach
The harbour

Great, great grandmother

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Saturday 17th September 

My great, great grandmother
Lived to age ninety four
A Master Mariner's wife
Nearly blown up in the war
A German fighter plane
Strafed the beach and more
A high explosive bomb
Landed almost next door
Broken debris and glass
Covered her bedroom floor
Surviving this onslaught
A lucky lady, for sure

Love you both so much
Precious sons
xxxxx
The Cornishman Newspaper of September 3rd 1942

"DAYLIGHT RAID IN SOUTH-WEST
COASTAL TOWN BOMBED AND MACHINE GUNNED

Sweeping in at a very low level, their wing-tips nearly touching, two enemy ‘planes were responsible for a considerable amount of damage at a South Western coastal town on Friday afternoon. In addition to dropping bombs, the ‘planes indulged in both machine-gunning and cannon-gunning.

There was only one fatal casualty, whilst eleven people had to be removed to hospital, and there were several other cases which received attention at the first-aid post.

The damage to property was extensive, and scores of people have been rendered homeless. People were taken completely by surprise; so much so, indeed, that the ‘planes circled over the housetops for the first time, before beginning machine-gunning, some people waved to the pilots under the impression that they were British planes.

Crowds of people were gathered on the beach at the time, and it will never be known just why some of them were not killed by the bullets as the enemy planes raked the foreshore.

A bomb fell right in the centre of an open space – where four roads meet, with the result that it either brought down and completely demolished or at least badly damaged houses on every side.

The three houses to suffer the worst were not more than twenty yards from the lip of the crater, and they had come down like match wood.

NONAGENARIAN’S PLUCK

In a nearby house, her bed littered with fragments of broken glass and debris, lay Mrs. J. H. Carbines aged ninety. She showed the true British spirit by resolutely refusing to be removed after the bombing, though she was at last taken out of the stricken house. She suffered nothing worse than shock.

In all the houses nearest to the crater there were scenes of complete destruction, with all the contents of the houses jumbled together in an inextricable mass. The fact that there were not more injuries in this part of the town must be put down to the time which the incident occurred, when many people would be out shopping or on the beach.

The attack was the Nazi’s farewell, for they sped away out to sea, flying together almost on the water-line, and so passing out of sight, their days bad deed accomplished."

The nonagenerian in the report above, was my great, great grandmother. Mrs John Hooper Carbines, (1849 – 1943)

Mrs John Hooper Carbines (Jane Carbines née Hart)
Much, much cooler today
Porthmeor Beach
The Island
Visiting yachts in the harbour
Reflections