The sun streams onto my desk
distracting me with an open invitation.
I wander outside into the crisp
freshness of September
(I really should be working)
air cool, sun warm,
what a delicious combination.
I stroll, and admire the flowers.
This year’s robins practice their trills
and chase each other around the garden
(I should be working, really)
Dewy cobwebs sparkle.
The Chinese lanterns glow
like orange setting suns.
(Should I really be working?)
I have all the time in the world
long years of it left,
but this one moment of early autumn,
this particular combination of weather
and flowers and birdsong
will never happen again in
exactly the same way.
So I savour it.
Ghostly pine trees,
hilltops lost in mist,
lake reflecting grey.
then rain in sheets
scudding across the water.
Sweating in waterproofs
with leaky boots,
step by step
we are rinsed,
I used to worry.
What will the neighbours think
if I do tai chi in the garden?
This summer I tried it.
What a gift,
being present outdoors
at the end of the day.
the wind in the trees,
flowers, bats, hedgehogs, owls,
the moon, clouds, rain,
the setting sun,
a scattering of stars,
mars, even saturn
have been part of my practice this summer.
Who cares what the neighbours think!
Unexpected flashes of white
Egrets flapping homewards
across clouds full of rain
I’ve been in this peaceful corner of the internet for nine months now.
I wanted a place to write, to explore ideas, to experiment, to see what this blogging thing was all about. To share, maybe, if anyone found my blog.
I started out thinking I’d write about creativity, and how to fit it into a busy life, about nature, and the importance of connecting with the natural world.
I ended up writing poetry. Poems about everyday life; the first snowdrops of spring, anxiety before a hospital appointment, the first canoe trip of the year, tai chi.
I luxuriated in language. I wrote about things that I don’t usually talk about, feeling safely anonymous among millions of bloggers.
I haven’t been trying to promote my blog, but somehow I now have some followers.
♥ Thank you! ♥
I follow some of the people who have commented or followed my blog and now every weekend my inbox contains poetry and stories. Some of my favourites so far:
The Cedar Journal – adventures of a Cedar Canoe
Elle Guyence, who writes a beautiful poem every week
So, I’m going to keep on writing, exploring, experimenting and reading and see what the next nine months bring for Life In The Fresh Air!
Here we are,
the sea pilgrims.
Not many of us tonight.
A damp evening,
dark before its time.
Thunder rumbles in the distance,
water mirrors grey
and turns it into silver,
alchemy before our eyes.
An infinite supply of treasure
for a sea pilgrim.
We leave the shore,
the light darkens,
but inside us the sea shines silver,
and fills our hearts with light.
Getting close to nature.
Evening tai chi practice
interrupted by a hedgehog.
11pm in the garden,
the air like velvet on my bare arms,
A soft breeze caresses the leaves.
Two owls squabble
under an orange moon
as I savour the silky night.
Nights like this belong to other places.
Reluctantly I return indoors.
The owls sing me to sleep.
At a conference,
head bursting with ideas.
Talks about nature and wellbeing,
the benefit of mindful ‘forest bathing’,
the importance of nature connections.
dried up by windowless rooms,
and too many strangers.
Break time and I escape
into a bookshop.
Funny how I always end up in one of these
when the urban world becomes too much.
My shoulders drop as I cross the threshold,
calm among wood
pulped and pressed into pages,
the ghosts of trees.
A forest of paper and words,
I feel at home
I don’t read them, just soak in the cathedral-like atmosphere
and refrain from buying another expensive notebook.
I feel the benefit of a kind of forest bathing,
a tenuous connection to nature
until I can get back to the real thing.
Evening in the garden
Surrounded by a symphony of blackbirds
Liquid songs pouring into my ears
As the sun sets