Dam Head Livery

16/01/2025

Classic

25/12/2024

Three Flowers for Christmas: A gift of thoughts from me…

Dear Planet Horse Dwellers

These three flowers—white tulips, yellow China Tea roses, and the red poinsettia—bring their gifts to you this Christmas. Like the Wise Men of old, they each carry their own wisdom, but unlike gold, frankincense, and myrrh, these gifts are meant for sharing.

If I’ve sent this to you directly, know it carries my personal wishes for your Christmas joy. If you’ve found it somewhere else, consider it a gift nonetheless—for all gifts of the heart are meant to travel further than we know.

These flowers tell a story of presence, patience, and giving. The white tulips remind us to cherish the moment, the yellow roses teach us endurance, and the red poinsettia guides us, like a star, toward sharing with others.

No return is sought nor needed—like flowers themselves, joy grows best when given freely.

I. A Sonnet to Christmas Tulips

In winter’s heart, where roses seldom bloom,
White tulips grace the hearth with purest hue.
Their petals, soft as snow, dispel the gloom,
A silent dance beneath the morning dew.

With golden spray, their verdant stems are crowned,
They gleam like stars upon a frosted bough.
A whispered promise in their form is found—
To light the dark and heal the weary now.

In Christmas warmth, they find their gentle place,
Amidst the holly’s green and scarlet cheer.
Their chastened beauty lends a quiet grace,
A fleeting peace, profound, yet crystal-clear.

O tulips white, your gift we can’t confine,
A symbol pure, of love and hope divine.

The present moment is a precious gift,
Like petals opening in morning light.
Each moment holds a grace we dare not drift,
A beauty pure that makes the dark grow bright.

II. The China Tea Roses’ Vigil

Behind glass panes where winter claims its sphere,
My China Tea roses, golden, persevere.
Like cups of distant memories from lands,
Their yellow blooms make gestures time understands.

Each petal whispers tales of silk and tea,
Of patience learned when frost claims territory.
They watch the tulips in their indoor grace,
While holding winter’s wisdom in their place.

These blooms that travelled far from Orient seas
Now share their gentle light through winter’s freeze.
Like lanterns glowing on a foreign shore,
They teach us what endurance is meant for.

Between the dark and light they stand and wait,
Patient witnesses to time’s sweet flow.
Teaching us there’s never need to hesitate
In sharing love with those we cherish so.

III. The Poinsettia’s Star

Through winter’s night, a colour burns,
Like flames against December frost.
Each crimson leaf in starlight turns,
Where summer’s warmth was never lost.

From Mexico’s warm ancient ground,
To winter homes where joy is found.
Each perfect point a star takes form—
December’s gift through winter’s storm.

Like faithful hearts that brave the cold,
These blooms declare what light can hold.
Red petals reach toward winter skies—
Nature’s own Christmas sunrise.

Three flowers bring their wisdom here tonight:
White tulips’ grace in present moments clear,
Yellow roses’ patience, burning bright,
Red poinsettia’s star to guide and cheer.

Closing

And so, my friends, whether near or far,
These flowers bring their Christmas blessing true.
Like wise men following their guiding star,
May their gifts of peace and joy reach you.

For in this season, as in all our days,
The present is the greatest gift we hold.
To share it freely in a thousand ways
Makes life more precious than mere frankincense or gold.

As ever, with my love and warmest wishes,

Creag

24/12/2024

My Beautiful Bradford - A Celebration in Poetry and Prose

A Poem for My Beautiful Bradford

I promised to write a poem,
A humble attempt to celebrate
Bradford, a city that shaped my heart,
A place I hold dear, never to part.

I thought, what best honours this land?
Is it the buildings, the streets, the sand?
Perhaps it’s the way Bradford’s name,
Echoes in the world, with pride and fame.

(Refrain)
Their beautiful Bradford, shared with the world,
A tapestry woven, where stories are hurled.
From the heart of its people, to the sky so wide,
Bradford, forever, with nothing to hide.

I looked to those who’ve celebrated its grace,
Luminaries whose names we embrace.
From writers and artists, to minds so grand,
Each one left a mark upon this land.

(Refrain)
Their beautiful Bradford, shared with the world,
A tapestry woven, where stories are hurled.
From the heart of its people, to the sky so wide,
Bradford, forever, with nothing to hide.

J.B. Priestley, a voice of the North,
Wrote tales that still stir, bringing forth
Insight into life, into time and fate,
Bradford’s own son, who opened the gate.

John Braine’s words, from Room at the Top,
Spoke of ambition, of life’s steady hop.
Angry and young, he wrote with might,
Of class and struggle, and day turning night.

(Refrain)
Their beautiful Bradford, shared with the world,
A tapestry woven, where stories are hurled.
From the heart of its people, to the sky so wide,
Bradford, forever, with nothing to hide.

David Hockney’s brush, so vivid, so bright,
Captured the world in colours of light.
From Yorkshire’s fields to California’s shore,
Bradford’s own artist, forever more.

Frederick Delius, whose music soared,
Through fields and pastures, his chords adored.
Bradford’s own son, with music to tell,
Of spring’s first cuckoo, and time’s deep swell.

(Refrain)
Their beautiful Bradford, shared with the world,
A tapestry woven, where stories are hurled.
From the heart of its people, to the sky so wide,
Bradford, forever, with nothing to hide.

Andrea Dunbar, her words so raw,
Portrayed life’s struggles, no facade to draw.
From the estate of Buttershaw she came,
A voice for the people, never to wane.

Barbara Taylor Bradford, stories so grand,
Tales of strong women, from her own hand.
Her books touched millions, her name known wide,
A true Bradford author, with nowhere to hide.

(Refrain)
Their beautiful Bradford, shared with the world,
A tapestry woven, where stories are hurled.
From the heart of its people, to the sky so wide,
Bradford, forever, with nothing to hide.

These luminaries, these voices so true,
Celebrate Bradford in all that they do.
Through their works, the city lives on,
A part of their legacy, forever strong.

(Refrain)
Their beautiful Bradford, shared with the world,
A tapestry woven, where stories are hurled.
From the heart of its people, to the sky so wide,
Bradford, forever, with nothing to hide.

A Personal Connection

While the luminaries celebrated above have shared Bradford’s story with the world through their art, music, and literature, each person who calls Bradford home has their own chapter to add. This is mine.

I was born at St. Luke’s Hospital in Bradford on March 12th, 1960—or so my mother tells me, backed up by some paperwork I’ve seen lying around somewhere. But you know what? The paperwork doesn’t really matter. What matters is how Bradford has shaped me, and how I’ve spent my time in this remarkable city.

Recently, I’ve been following a wonderful social media trend where people share daily photographs of Bradford—both historical and contemporary. It’s been heartwarming to see these images that take us all back through the city’s rich history and evolution, showing the same streets that inspired Priestley’s words and Hockney’s art.

Just the other day, fate gave me an unexpected gift. Due to some cancelled trains, I found myself at the wrong station and had to return to Bradford. Instead of waiting for another train to my intended destination, I had an idea. I slid into a taxi and asked the driver if we could take a tour around town before heading to my destination. He agreed, and what followed was a lovely experience.

During our drive, the cabbie and I had a wonderful chat about life—our different circumstances, neither better nor worse, just different paths we’ve taken. Like Andrea Dunbar, who wrote about life as she saw it in Buttershaw, this conversation helped me understand something my niece often says about “my beautiful Bradford.” Those words resonate deeply with me now.

You see, it bothers me when people speak negatively about places they don’t truly know. Bradford isn’t just where I was born—it’s a part of who I am. Though I don’t live there now, I’m not far away, and each visit fills me with warmth and appreciation. Just as Frederick Delius captured Yorkshire’s essence in his music, I feel the city’s rhythm in my heart.

From this day forward, I’ll always think of it as “my beautiful Bradford,” because that’s exactly what it is. My niece had it right all along. It’s not just a city—it’s a tapestry of memories, connections, and experiences that have shaped my life in the most wonderful ways. Like the luminaries before us who shared their Bradford with the world, I too share my beautiful Bradford, with nothing to hide and everything to celebrate.

A Final Note

I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone in the group again for sharing their daily photographs of Bradford. It’s been truly inspiring to see the city through your eyes, and your posts sparked something in me. As I wrote the words you’re reading now, I was reminded of how deeply Bradford is woven into my story—and yours too.

I appreciate you all for keeping this spirit of sharing alive. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written here, and thank you again for the inspiration.

24/12/2024

From gentle lavender, we turn to proud thistle—showing us how strength and grace can dance together. Every garden needs both softness and spine…

🌿 LA VIE EN ROSE 🌿

Part I: Random Patterns, Natural Order

Regularly Random Roses,
Roses Randomly Regular,
The Regular Randomness of Roses,
Making Random Roses Regular!

Through a florist’s window, bouquets wave,
Each bloom a whisper, each petal brave.
I pause, imagining their story told,
Of joy and love in colours bold.

Yet every rose, though chosen by chance,
Follows a pattern, a delicate dance.
From garden to vase, their beauty ascends,
Marking the cycles where chaos bends.

Each rose a paradox, free yet confined,
A mirror reflecting the human mind.
In petals and thorns, a lesson unfolds:
Life, both wild and gentle, never truly controlled.

Part II: The Philosopher’s Rose

Nature grows roses, unruly and free,
While gardeners strive for symmetry.
Yet even pruned, they twist and climb,
Beyond the bounds of human design.

The rose reminds us, in every thorn,
That strength and beauty are often reborn.
Its bloom defies our measured ground,
Teaching that freedom is where truth is found.

In each garden, a quiet rebellion lies,
Where roses bloom, and constraints disguise.
Their wisdom whispers through every row:
To truly thrive, let the wildness show.

(The rose, in all its paradox, teaches us to balance freedom and form—a lesson for gardens and life alike.)

[Space for Heidi’s art]

Do you prefer wild roses or the perfect symmetry of a florist’s bouquet?

24/12/2024

Sometimes peace comes in purple waves, carrying both beauty and healing. Like friendship, lavender teaches us that the gentlest gifts can be the strongest…

🌿 BOLD THISTLE 🌿

Bold thistle, crowned with amethyst light,
In northern winds, you stand, resolute and bright.
Your thorns defend where soft blooms wane,
Guarding the glens through storm and rain.

No fragile flower, your strength is your art,
Your spine speaks of courage, your petals, a heart.
Among heather’s blush and highland stone,
Thistle, you thrive in lands your own.

Through misted moors and ancient graves,
Your roots hold tales of warriors brave.
In every thorn, a story of might,
A bloom defiant, in Scotland’s fight.

Yet hidden within, your nectar flows,
A secret softness only the bee knows.
With strength and grace, you intertwine—
A living emblem of the divine.

(The thistle teaches: even in wild terrain, beauty and resilience find their perfect balance.)

Awaiting Thistle - they are busy planning Hogmanay ..

Which blooms do you think embody strength and resilience?

24/12/2024

After 15 years of friendship, & I , decided to stop dreaming and start doing. Introducing Evans Webb—where art meets words, usually too many of them (my speciality). Our first creation Blooming Verses pairs Heidi’s stunning original illustrations with poetry that celebrates nature’s calendar.

As a Christmas gift, we’d like to share three poems from our garden of words—freely given, hoping they might multiply whatever joy you already hold…

🌿 LAVENDER 🌿

In fields of billowing purple, tall and serene,
The silvery foliage whispers, crafting a dream.
Delicate blooms on fragrant spikes, kissed by the sun,
Lavender, harbinger of peace, where calm has begun.

A floral elixir, honeyed and light,
Lavender’s grace blooms soft in the night.
Steeped in warm tea, it cradles the mind,
A gentle embrace, where solace we find.

From scones to cookies, its touch lingers still,
A fragrant delight, a baker’s quill.
In every sip, in each quiet bite,
Lavender weaves its tender respite.

Softly it whispers, in tones ever sweet,
“Be still, dear soul, let your worries retreat.”
In lavender’s hold, life’s noise dissipates,
A haven of joy, where harmony waits.

(Inspired by summers in Provence—where lavender meets both poetry and palate.)

What does lavender remind you of—peaceful evenings or fragrant kitchens?

20/12/2024

🤣😎🤣

18/12/2024

❤️🐎😎

29/11/2024

I’m 100% Against Assisted Su***de

This is not about religion or a moral judgement on someone's choices; it’s about the fundamental principle that every life has value and should be preserved. No one should be intentionally killed, even with their consent. This belief shapes my strong stance against assisted su***de.

The Principle Against Intentional Killing

At the core of my belief is the principle that no one can be intentionally killed, even with their consent. If we accept that individuals can choose to end their own lives through assisted su***de, it creates a landscape where those who feel like burdens must justify their existence. This undermines the value of life and places unnecessary pressure on vulnerable individuals.

The Moral Question of Assisted Su***de

The push for assisted su***de raises significant ethical concerns. It often appears to be rooted in financial motivations rather than genuine compassion for those who are suffering. If society normalises the idea that life can be ended to relieve pain or inconvenience, it creates a dangerous precedent. It suggests that some lives are less valuable based on their circumstances, which I fundamentally oppose.

Financial Implications in Healthcare

A troubling aspect of this discussion is the financial implications behind assisted su***de. There’s a prevailing notion that alleviating suffering can sometimes mean cutting costs. In healthcare systems under pressure, the temptation may arise to consider assisted dying as a cost-effective option. This mindset undermines the very essence of compassionate care. After all, when financial considerations overshadow the sanctity of life, we risk devaluing human existence.

Personal Experience and the Value of Life

My own experiences with near-death situations have profoundly shaped my belief against assisted su***de. I’ve faced three critical health crises, including battles with pneumonia and complicated medical conditions. Each time, I was confronted with the possibility of being labelled “Do Not Resuscitate.” Yet, through sheer will, luck and medical intervention, I survived against the odds. These experiences have shown me that life is unpredictable, and the potential for recovery should never be dismissed. It angers me to think that anyone could decide my fate based on projections rather than possibilities.

Legal and Financial Exploitation

In the legal world, there's a phrase that highlights the potential for exploitation: it's often the relative who lives closest to the deceased who benefits from their movable chattels—items of value that can easily be inherited. This opens up the possibility for ulterior motives, where the desire for financial gain might influence decisions about a person’s life or death. The nuances of inheritance laws can create an environment where greed overshadows genuine care and concern for loved ones.

The Inherent Distrust in Decision-Making

Given the complexities of human relationships and the potential for self-interest, one must question the reliability of others in making life-altering decisions. Whether in the medical or legal professions, we cannot always trust that motives are pure. The pressure placed on individuals to consider assisted su***de can lead to decisions that are not genuinely in their best interest. Life should be valued and preserved, not discarded based on others' perceptions of burden or financial gain.

The Need for Advocacy and Support

Ultimately, what’s needed is a systemic change that prioritises life and supports individuals in their struggles. We should advocate for greater resources for mental health support, palliative care, and rehabilitation rather than allowing society to view assisted su***de as a viable option. We must recognise the worth of every individual and work to ensure that no one feels compelled to make a choice that could end their life prematurely.

In my never humble opinion.

Thank you for reading

Creag McMillan 29/11/2024

21/11/2024

Brilliant way to deal with a scammer. One way I find which isn’t as humorous, but is certainly productive. Is always ask them to do a FaceTime on the telephone number they’ve given especially when they’ve sent the photo of themselves which is never them obviously. What Joe did there was brilliant actually in my opinion.

21/11/2024

😎🥰…. Valuable ties to have …. 🤣

20/11/2024

First time seeing snow..

20/11/2024

20/11/2024

03/11/2024