In my garden plants that were only a few weeks ago small seedlings are now strong and beautiful. The leeks, pulled from the earth, smelled sweet, strong, fresh.
At the beach Robin played with Charlie. The sea had thrown itself back leaving wide clean sand.
Today I started work early, then walked, alone, along berry filled hedges to the blue sea. I stood for a while with the wind wrapped around me and contemplated the texture of water. Sunlight reminded me of a poem from The Barefoot Book of Classic Poems.
Until I saw the sea
I did not know
that wind
could wrinkle water so.
I never knew
that sun
could splinter a whole sea of blue.
Nor
did I know before
a sea breathes in and out
upon a shore.
by Lilian Moore
Back home I settled again to work and watched the sea of time wash over different sands.
Thanks for the closeups of the hour glass -- how beautifully made it is, and with tan sand rather than white. The lentils look so tasty -- what fate have you planned for them?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, love the poem.
ReplyDeleteI love the hour glass... in a recent series of drawings, I am making spiral after spiral, concentric circle around and around and am suddenly keenly aware of time and marking and orbiting planets. Also, suddenly, the hour glass has new potency. Interesting how a shift if focus can bring deep resonance to things seen casually before.
ReplyDeleteAnd yesterday, on a field trip with students, I made photos of clouds reflected in rippled water... so the last two posts here are also deeply resonant! Lovely!
Does it work Jackie - the hour glass? I need more discipline.....
ReplyDeleteIt does work Kathryn, but so does the Time Chicken. I have a Time Chicken here that needs homing. Someone asked me to get one, but so far I can't remmeber and they haven't asked again, though would still be happy to do so should they get back in touch.
ReplyDeleteIn the meantime either get yourself an hour glass, or I will send you a Time Chicken. The hour glass is more elegant.