~ Musings ~

...and in the silent stillness, 
the mist descends.
25th February 2015

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I swallow the stars for supper, 
and give birth to the sun
as I break my morning fast.
20th June 2013
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I needed this ~ this time for me. To just be.
To look with seeing eyes. To feel ~ to wholly feel ~
so much feeling. Peace. 
Gratitude to be here right now ~ 
totally present.
Hearing the wind as it whooshes
around my van.
Feeling it rock her (us)
as it pushes its force against our stillness.

A sheep bleats pitifully.
Skylarks and Blackbirds compete for my hearing ~
I hear both.
The sky is darkening to the intense blue of evening.
I bang my drum to Earth's beat.
7th June, 2008
Sitting in the van on my own
at Waldo's Stone; drinking tea.
Drumming my bodhran
Artist Date. 

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Sun warm on skin.
Rogue wind. Cool. Gooses my flesh.
Eyes roam over ancient hills.
Feel small but I am huge...
So much a part of all I see.
I breath it. I feel it. I embrace it to me;
greedily holding on to what is left.
I grieve for what has been lost
- so many changes in my time.
I grieve...
I grieve...
I grieve...

7th June, 2008
Sitting in the van on my own
at Waldo's Stone; drinking tea.
Artist Date. 
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My mysterious and elusive garden flyer came back...
...with a partner. This time we got a good look...
and at first hummingbirds came to mind ~ 
swiftly realising we don't have them in this country, and 
following the thought process to 'Hummingbird Hawk Moth'.
Wow! ~ 
they were breath~taking, heart~lifting, spirit~singingly awesome!
21st July, 2010

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Born a child of the woods
where trees were my mother
green leaves my father;
the creatures my siblings, 
our playmate ~ the river ~
where days were spent collecting stones,
floating leaves, gathering twigs;
taking strolls through bordering fields
filled with meadowsweet ~
stretching out on this Queen of the Meadows
~ releasing her honied scent 
and dancing with butterflies ~
arms spread wide, then flung in a hug
around an Oak,
a Beech,
an Alder,
a Birch.
: :
: :
~ HOME ~

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I was in a misty, dream-like state all day! I picked blackberry blossoms to make a flower-essence. Placed them by the mini standing stone.
Their energy was enhanced by ants as they crawled all over the flowers during the making of the essence.
The ants' message is patience....and today I feel patient. It is a recurring message for me...has been for over a year.
3rd July 2009

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I stepped outside for a few minutes - daisies dancing in the sun called me out there...and I saw two butterflies flitting and flirting with one another in a mating ritual.
19th April 2009

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I climbed a TREE :~))) She was a grand dame of a Beech tree, well used by many generations of children.
She was gracious and made it easy to climb her. She was also a work of art, with generous and pleasing curves.
2nd June 2010
New Hedges on our way to Manorbier
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Crab Apple Jelly

The sweet smell of apples with a hint of cloves and ginger whispered through our home as I made
crab apple jelly. It was so enjoyable cutting them up, revealing tiny pentagrams in their centre.
28th October 2010

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Rowan berries and Faery mirrors

The Rowan berries are in full orange fire and the air is slowly biting into an
Autumn crisp; while the light is sliding from its warm summer pink to
the cooler blue of shadowy fall.
16th August 2010

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The sea was a rippling pale grey silk, then, as the tide came in, a sheet of pewter grey.
5th October 2009
at Jude's

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Cardigan's 900th year

Armed with camera and an excited anticipation, I went with my Man to see what Cardigan was
providing as entertainment to celebrate its 900th year.
We saw Bran's arms and legs being trasported over the old bridge on one trycicle-pulled trailer, and
his torso on another and so went to the quay to await the return of Bran the Blessed.
His body parts, found and reassembled, lay prone and huge, missing only his head now, and we watched
as a monk in a dark hooded cloak brought him by boat along the river.

At last he was complete again ~ 1,000 years after being torn apart and scattered in different directions.
A 'Choir of the Chosen' sang him to life, and sang me to life while they were at it - oh! my goodness -
they tore my heart in two and pieced it back, complete and full to bursting.

He stood twenty five feet tall, and in a voice booming hollowly with great age and wisdom, told us
"There is no leader who is not a bridge" and to gather together and help each other as in the
communities of old. Yes please.
21st August 2010

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It is 10:10:10 today. I looked at the digital clock and I had just missed 10:10!
A binary moment on a binary day.
10th October 2010
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Excerpt of a memory.....

her head bare, thrown back, relishing the wet feel of it on her face and knowing it was good for her long dark hair. She would also be singing - loudly and lustily. My parents thought her odd, strange. I thought her exciting, magnificent, a role-model.
One day, I was playing with my friend, whose house was attached to the family Hibbs' house. We were at the bottom of the garden. I had been experimenting with eye-shadow that day, and had used the bright, shimmery green so popular in the late sixties. I felt most proud of myself. Mrs Hibbs came down to the bottom of her garden to see us, and encouraged me to talk about my eye-shadow, then gently suggested ways to improve my technique - she was definitely a goddess.....
She worked as a sculptor and tried to encourage me to experiment by giving me a large lump of clay; red, wrapped in a damp cloth and kept in a plastic bag. She also provided the chicken wire to be moulded into a base-shape. My father did not approve, and the clay was delegated to one of the out-buildings. My passion then was horses, so I tried to mould and sculpt wire and clay into equine beauty. I do not think I managed it, as I have a vague memory of feeling bitter disappointment and uselessness. My father had no time for "artistic nonsense" of any kind, so I would have been actively discouraged from any such notions.
Mrs Hibbs and her family did not stay long in our quiet, narrow little village.
She was a whirlwind passing through, picking up my senses as she went, and leaving herself forever in my memory.
I wonder who then had the pleasure of her company and how many more young girls grew up with a love of long hair and walking in the rain - singing unabashedly - loving life.

Wednesday, 31st January, 2007