Choosing possibility and embracing difference

choosing-possibility-and-embracing-difference

Relaxed alpacas. Out there, wandering around the lake. Grazing on fresh grass, bramble leaves and ripe blackberries. And taking a nap in the sunshine when they feel like it. This scene poignantly draws out the contrast with years gone by and marks the emergence of a new season. The last Monday in August – a … Read more

Clearing the debris

clearing-the-debris

Yesterday I inspected the storm damage at the end of the valley. We’ve had strong winds and heavy rain on already saturated ground. And with trees in full leaf, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. The evidence of fallen trees and branches across the path was clear. We know what to do with these. It’s … Read more

Being observed

being-observed

No words. Just pause to look. And be seen. ~ However, if you are up for a more profound mirror for reflection, today is the anniversary of Dr Martin Luther King, Jr.’s ‘I have a dream’ speech. Fifty-seven years ago.

Yearning for a new language

yearning-for-a-new-language

Throughout this recent season in our collective history, I have been struggling with words. I love words – playing with their sounds, appreciating their shape and enjoying their nuance. However, some of our current words are feeling worn-out and tired. What we are engaging with now requires a new vocabulary. As T S Eliot suggested … Read more

and words fell to earth

and-words-fell-to-earth

The day the moon landed… The daythe moon landed,and wordsfell to earth. They gave usmeans of dreaming,shaping imaginationand telling stories. Exploring what welong for,and what weglimpse within. Bypassing theroadblocksof our fearand defensiveness; and openingour hearts withnew songsof hope. Yes, singing, but not solo, tuning with emerging harmonies. Can you hearthe words,and learn thelanguage? The daythe … Read more

The day the moon landed

the-day-the-moon-landed

In our field, on Sunday afternoon. Extraordinary! What’s it doing there? Of course, it’s not the moon. It’s a puffball with beautiful markings and the shadow of wildflowers. Isn’t it strange how we are so quick to make things concrete and use technically correct language? But that doesn’t transport us in our imagination, does it?