Running in the slow lane
Pulsation of the sound
Shingle on shore
Mesmerising motion
Eyes glued to
The twisted ribbon
Snaking the shoreline to the sound
Of the waves
Some distance away
But so real
So haunting
Memories flood by
Energy of the sea
Fills every part
I cannot turn away
The power of the sea
In me.
The river
It lures
Deep and clear.
Poised on the rock
I
Reach out
To point of no return
Eyes fixed
Caught intensity
A moment suspended in time
Lost in penetrating cold
Until rhythm is found
To breathe again
And submerged
Warmth returns.
Where boulders meet water
And ripples cast
Amidst bubbles and shimmering
Reflections that imprint
On the mind
That is cleared both free and alert
Eye level with nature
Synchronised the breath
Each stroke made deliberate
To match with the speed
Of the current which steers
The thread of the river
At one
With the force that surrounds
Gaining equilibrium holding the ground
A freedom found
All stress disappears
A stillness reached
Sights and sounds blend into one
Patterns on the surface
The canopy of trees
The feel of the air
The crisp cleansing within.
Tingling sensors
Energised
Alive.
Cracking the mirrored surface
Breaks the picture
Transiently;
Breath sharpened,
Mind focused-
Drawn eye -level with nature
Drawn to wonder
To gaze upwards;
The canopy of trees
Plays
The shaft of light;
Damsel flies dance on the surface
Jewel dots of colour,
Ripples in the water
Pushing upstream
For yards
Slow and rhythmic,
Breath and stroke synchronised
Until we are at one with nature
Mesmerised midstream,
Totally at peace.
Having a puppy in pain is no different to having a sick child. It’s going to be a long night!
To the sound of whimpering
The moon she rises
Still the night
But tormented a soul
Shrill she calls into the darkness
For one to hear.
Out on the lawn
Injured leg raised
Precarious the balance
Confused eyes shine bright
She stares into the night.
From cage to sofa
Reclined with her senior
Calmer, protected
Fragmented sleep returns.
My first year of growing dahlias and I love every one.
With time to paint, and exploring oil paints, I had a go at still life.
Beneath the sky
The moorland view
Draws us home
With a torn tendon in my arm, I’ve done little in the garden this last week: I’ve done little of anything really.
Found some old oil paints and equipment clearing my parent’s house.
I’ve never painted with oils before – always acrylic so decided to have a play and experiment.
Any tips would be appreciated- I’ve done a bit of reading.
While life stays still
Unbalanced
A world keeps moving on
Beauty masked in small things
Paper thin petals
Dance above a sea of stems
Soft pincushions of moss
Glisten hugging the damp soil
The earthy smell
Of renewal.
We looked mad arriving at the car park in thick fog and not taking coats. At the bottom of the mile long track we could hear the sea but not see it – that’s how dense the fog was. Pepper was so interested and surprised by what she could hear and feel – then the fog lifted and she just stood and stared at everything that was moving – a wonderful moment.
Strength of the sun
Piercing the whiteness
Unveiling the view
Ruth Partridge