Seems to me,that the light of October isa special kindof light makes everything rathergolden holds its own kind of magic noticing… last week I had two fingers fitted for splintsin hopes of keeping themmobileand this week, after trying to work…
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“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.” ~ Herman Melville To love the…
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Can you possibly imaginea gentler sky… to accompany a silent(although never so)morning’s meditation in the gardena walk under billowy puffs of cottonever so slowlyclosingin the morning feels as though I am notas far out of theditch I’ve been travellingas I…
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It is enoughto stand in the gardenunder overcast skies, heavily cloaked ina pale, palegrey still moving absolutely nothingbutone’s eyesslowly taking in each sightthe delicate and theboldbreathing deeply (as one can)and wondering if it is possible totune inand hearthe bees gathering…
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When the goldenrod begins to bloomand the hummingbird trafficincreasesthe sunmoves over just a little morein the skyand the sugar maples start boldly in toblushwhen yellow-jackets take a keen interestin each and every movementand apples begin a slightrosy-ing up one hesitates…
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Today in recognitionof the mighty thistle I am currently carrying with me,on theinsidea ba-a-a-a-ad mooda prickly sort of crustthat I can feel, tightin my jawinternally, from about the ribcageuplike a potabout to boil over warning flares have been sentmostly to…
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August in the garden feelslikeluxurythere is a sort of graciouseaseto itwhere nothing needs to betendedbothered or fussed aboutthe growers have grownthe bloomers havebloomedsome already faded and gonesome stillshinetadpoles become toadsbaby birds have well since flownthe nestandbutterflies abound this week I…
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One of my very favourite times of the morning,sitting outside by the pond,coffee and conversational ‘catch-up’with my lovewatch one single puff of whitesail slowly across a pale blue skyquite contentedly sinkdeepinto the pagesof arather wonderfulbookjust as the sun rises high…
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I would like to live in a bookstorebut not just any old bookstore you see…one most comfortable andkindwith an old wooden front, and large windowsthat I could dress a welcome sign that (even though it was me)made you feel solike drawing…
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This morning the sky begins inbluebut rather quickly is blanketedin the fluffy white-nessof a slightly cooler but,neverthelessbeautiful day the garden, in its summer gloryhas received so much rain latelyit looks to be sittinglush andlow due to a falling tree last…
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