Friday 9 September 2011

Keep on keeping on...


Walk the spiritual path;
Say little
love much
give all
judge no man
aspire to all that is pure and good
and keep on keeping on.

(by unknown)


Thursday 8 September 2011

haiku...

It's in these moments
Watching sun connect with sea
I'm never alone...



Rapture...


A little boy's hysterical giggles fill Fenwick's toy department.
We follow the laughter and discover him standing rooted to the spot,
enraptured;
as a grinning woman hula-hoops wildly.
We smile as we wander past...


Staring at the sea....

A man sits in the shelter staring out at the concrete grey sea.
Sitting behind him, watching from a concrete wall, is a spray-painted man...

The next day, both men are  still there.

Only this time they sit face to face, animatedly confiding in each other, swapping their stories; 
passing time...




strolling upon the prom, prom, prom...





A couple of photos I took on my way to work this morning - I loved the pools of silver sunlight that seemed to have fallen from the sky and onto the surface of the sea... 




Wednesday 7 September 2011

This morning...



I watched a hearse go past, complete with coffin and flowers, followed by a car containing the mourning party.
Half an hour later they went past again.
This time the hearse was empty, apart from a few stray petals, which perfectly matched the colour of the mourners' ties...

Tuesday 6 September 2011

Goodbye 'seamstress of summer'...


The sun was aching to break through the steely clouds, but it couldn't quite muster up enough strength to push the stubborn blanket of cloud away completely.
Here and there a few sunny rays were reaching out towards the swallows, whose feathers were shimmering in the weak silvery light.
Feathery arrows darted in and out, up and down, between rays of sun and clumps of cloud.
The swallows all seem to have gathered here this morning; maybe in preparation for flying south.
Suddenly, the sky darkened and big fat raindrops pummelled down; framed momentarily by a glowing rainbow shining out of the black sky like a neon light, as the swallows dispersed and the sunshine gave up for today...

Putting the Good back in Goodbye - or trying to...



Well, here I am at the allotment, preparing myself for another loss, saying 'goodbye' again; but at least this time it's on my terms. It's still hard though; still sad; still another loss.

The leaves rustle 'goodbye' and it feels like all my little friends are making sure to pop by, or fly over, so that I can see them for one  last time... Frogs, bunnies, geese, ladybirds... It's all very poignant.

Ironically, I've had my most bountiful crops ever this year, and the plum tree flowered and fruited for the first time too.

I've raised my first brood of frogs and I rescued a baby blackbird and countless bees.

Maybe my work here is done...









Monday 5 September 2011

Poetry please...



Tonight of Yesterday


The evening slips you into it, has kept a place for you
as those wildwood limbs that have already settled on
the morning. The words you have for it are flyblown now
as the dandelion you'll whistle tomorrow into a lighter air.
But tonight, your sleep will be as round as your mouth,
berried with the story of sunlight finally run to ground.
You are all about tomorrow. The moon has your name
memorized: the curl of your back, your face, an open book.


Thought I'd share this lovely poem since it's September and rainy; the perfect time of year for snuggling up with a book of poems - and maybe a mug of hot chocolate
by Vona Groarke

Sunday 4 September 2011

'The sun rose a ribbon at a time'...

I love waking up at this time of year and watching the sun gradually wake up too...
Here are some photos from this morning and a couple of days ago, with some quotes thrown in for good measure...


I'll tell you how the sun rose a ribbon at a time  ~ Emily Dickinson

 



There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky...
Percy Bysshe Shelley




I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. 
The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets. 
It has given me blessed release from care and worry and the troubled thinking of our modern day. 
It has been a return to the primitive and the peaceful. 
Whenever the pressure of our complex city life thins my blood and benumbs my brain, I seek relief in the trail; and when I hear the coyote wailing to the yellow dawn, my cares fall from me - I am happy. 
Hamlin Garland, McClure's, February 1899