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Showing posts from May, 2026

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...