The greens – blue green, yellow green, blends of green wherever my eye rests – a complicated colour for some reason for me to respond to – some sense that I can’t quite put my finger that elicits ambivalent feelings – so I need to think more about that.
Meanwhile though, the first snowdrops are emerging, these shoots delight as they push forth with promise and certainty. The flowers, heads bent on what appear to be such fragile stems, yet so strong and resilient through cold, rain, wind, snow.
Before the soft blue greys caught my eye, my attention was drawn to the glistening raindrops. I think about protective feathers. I first remember collecting natural finds when I was about 3. I called them treasures. In my practice I notice how themes recur and continue to hold fascination throughout our lives.
Sometimes the unexpected is a way of making connections
Much as the natural world is my focus, the unexpected intervention of colour yesterday reminded me of something
Walking along a muddy path my eye caught a bright fizzing pink. Further along, another..
These dropped love heart sweets, (apart from strong reminders and memories of early days – the taste, the sharing, the sensations of these), evoked a connection about balancing stories, imaginative life and experiences walking – being totally present in the experience of walking.
Hansel and Gretel trailing breadcrumbs to find the path home, markers to map pathways, illuminating treasure in the forests gathering dark. The notions and stories of finding our way through and of unexpected danger lurking. How long though it took to balance that with learning to walk more confidently and sure-footedly and recover a deeper sense of belonging and being part of the reciprocity of wilder places. As a child who loved fairy tales and was frightened by cautionary tales, I was also always so at one within the natural world and concentration on sounds, colours and more sensitive watching and listening are part of this research. Anyway, the colour of sugar pink against muddy charcoal black is on my mind with musings about the practice of walking.
During this midwinter solstice season the moon and the stars have drawn me in
The last full moon of 2020 was on my birthday and a daily practice during these winter weeks has been to go outside at night and gaze upwards
To think about how small we are, how gloriously vast, beautiful and wonderful the sky and constellations above. To begin to navigate a path across the stars we know and to look at more, not so much to analyse but to experience and to look more deeply – to make time to..
To peep out at different times and see what is there. To stand, wrapped in a blanket and simply stargaze… and hear owls nearby (in autumn time we heard them every night so close and clear)
Sparkling, sprinkled patterns of light, the white and cream moon, scudding clouds and velvet darkness.
We used binoculars to look at the surface of the moon and look for Saturn and Jupiter
Colours of darkness, colours of moon and stars and rings of light…
Always the light and colour of the moon, moving through her cycles and rhythms…