Singing as the Darkness Lifts

A PERSON FLYING THEIR HORSE ON THE BEACH   Click here to listen   This morning the sun is warming the rained-on ground and the green scent of plants is rising in the air.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a person flying a horse on a beach and this description absolutely delights me. It gives me the perfect title for my blog in a week when things that have happened don’t really make great titles. It was one of those weeks which I thought would be summed up well by a photo of Ronnie not quite in shot as he jumps for joy (it was very windy and he kept blowing off course). I have other photos of him completely in the frame where the sky appears beautifully blue, but this one represents for me that wonderful human balance of finding joy when life sprinkles in a few obstacles.   The photo was taken on my birthday during a visit to Rhos-on-Sea for some ice-cream. Being at the coast and eating ice-cream are on my list of fun things I like to do, and bir...

FORTY-TWO BLUE MOONS    PodBean Listening Link                This morning the air brings the rustle of rain soon and the vague scent of vanilla biscuits.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a person holding a book in front of a bookshelf. Indeed it is, and that person is me and the book that I have temporarily removed from its space on the shelf in Waterstones is Welcome to the Museum of a Life published by Black Eyes Publishing UK. And the fact it is written by me, and it is there makes my heart dance a little happy dance.   In my ponderings this week I thought about blue moons, and I found out that maybe the blue moon at the end of May meant there have been forty-two blue moons since I was born. And whether there have or there haven’t this ‘fact’ along with the realisation that I hadn’t got a blue moon poem in amongst my moon poems inspired me to get writing. I donned my ‘Poetry in Business’ ...

     FINDING THE SHAPE OF THE GARDEN   Listening Link This morning the air is warm. It carries a hay-like scent and is tinged with floral notes.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a close up of flowers. It is indeed and it is a photo taken this very morning as the rose blooms begin to open for the day.   The Bank Holiday Weekend at the end of May always signals garden time to me. Peering out tentatively during the cold, grey days leading up to the weekend I saw a garden with the features of Sleeping Beauty’s castle – long grass in the borders, brambles weaving their way along the back path, and dandelions making themselves right at home pretty much everywhere. I was eager for sunny days to spur me on. I also realised I hadn’t been spending much time at all out there apart from my visits to the compost bin and to put out the washing every now and again. I appreciate both these things, but they don’t make my heart sing as...

  SITTING IN THE MUD PodBean Listening Link The first bird I hear as I wake this morning is a wood pigeon; the promise of spring in its echoing tones. In the damp morning the cheerful chorusing of many birds is welcoming the day, and the air brings the scent of rosemary and twigs.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a beaver in a muddy puddle. I say it is a capybara sitting in the mud at Chester Zoo. I photographed it during a visit back in 2015 and the photo came to mind this week after a conversation with a wonderful friend.   Part of our conversation centred around the importance of being able to sit with someone when they are in the emotional equivalent of a muddy puddle. I loved the analogy... being alongside the person, acknowledging that it is indeed a swampy place, sitting with their thoughts and feelings for a while without rushing them to get out, without offering to try to solve it... bringing presence not solutions... simply being there with t...

    THAT’S NOT MINE, MINE'S CRISPY   Listening Link    This morning the wind is moving things in gentle swirls and beckoning in the drizzle; it brings the scent of rosemary and grass as the birds chatter unseen in the hedges.   Alt text says this week’s photo is a selfie of two people. I say it is me and my sister walking under a storm cloud. We are decorated by ‘thunder bugs’, and both wearing black hoodies. She kindly washed mine for me after the walk and when she handed it back to me later on, I declared, “That’s not mine, mine’s crispy.” And that’s when I learned the difference fabric softener makes to one’s washing! (And a little google of thunder bugs tells me that another name for them is ‘thrips’ and I rather like that so will be adopting that into my language.)   No blog writing took place on Bank Holiday Monday, but as a gentle nod to Singing As The Darkness Lifts , my sister and I went out to smell the a...