The clouds were scowling today like a temperamental adolescent kicking his heels against the light for waking him up too early. May is always like this: frantic days mingled with placid ones. A bit like humans. Unpredictable.
The idea of an ordered life is a fantasy that is still clung to. One day I’ll get on top of it, whatever “it” may be! But please don’t open the curtains yet; let me just sleep a bit longer… Rest assured, feisty summer will stare through the windows of sleep soon enough.
This evening I am kneeling in front of one of my last logs, nursing it back to life with my breath. Sticks from today’s foraging, old rotting fence posts karate-chopped by my foot to bite size pieces, are being fed to the fire. It’s always like this. The logs run out two weeks too soon. My little fire is my winter cheer-leader. But now I say a reqiuem as the embers sink…
What a day of quiet pleasures and contrast. Each day brings its own character with it. Or is it me who calls the shots? We are linked to Nature from the core of us, yet have lost touch with her in a flurry of greed and disrespect. And yet here she still is giving us everything. We have unexpectedly been granted this time to reconnect, to remember to respect.
If I posted the same scene of sea, trees, blossoms, sky everyday it would be new! Nothing rests in Nature yet seamlessly flows into itself.
