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FORTY-TWO BLUE MOONS (#SingingAsTheDarknessLifts 135)

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’ ...
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FINDING THE SHAPE OF THE GARDEN (#SingingAsTheDarknessLifts 134)

     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 (#SingingAsTheDarknessLifts 133)

  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 (#SingingAsTheDarknessLift 132)

    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...

THREE TIMES A YARN SHOW (#SingingAsTheDarknessLifts 131)

THREE TIMES A YARN SHOW      This morning the air at home does not smell of sheep. My eyes are bleary and perhaps this means my sense of smell has not yet awakened, but the first thing I am noticing is what’s not there. And that is the scent of sheep in fields on a farm. Having spent the weekend at a lovely B and B just outside Builth Wells in the beautiful countryside maybe it is just my brain reminding me that I am now back home with a new set of memories made.   Alt text says this week’s photo is “two women smiling at the...” and I am guessing it was going to say camera but instead there are those three little dots. So perhaps it is waiting for me to say: the joy of readying for a yarn show, or the thought that this year while Wonderwool Wales celebrated its twentieth anniversary I was celebrating the fact that this was my third time there being with Kath on her stand, or the way you know you are going to find conversations that make you smile wh...

SLOW DOWN (#SingingAsTheDarknessLifts 130)

SLOW DOWN PodBean Listening Link    This morning the air is filled with the scent of grass and the sound of birdsong. A blue sky is welcoming the day, and promising warmth soon.   Alt text tells me this week’s photo is a road with words painted on it. It is indeed and it is a photo of what I call the country road where the words SLOW/ARAF are painted. I walked to this area yesterday to take a photo for today’s blog, but the words were very faded so I am using a photo which I think I took during my lockdown walks. Slow is a timely reminder for me right now.   Having talked recently about how important it is to balance self-care and to notice what you need, it almost surprised me that I wasn’t listening to myself. (I say ‘almost’ because I definitely heard the whisper of, you need a couple of early nights ! And instead of acknowledging the whisper I chose to ignore it. So my thinking went a bit like this... Feeling a bit more tired than usual?...