A strange juxtaposition of light is often present on the sea and in the sky these days: panoply of ever-changing patterns. It reflects how it is for us. As we move from Lockdown back to the landscape of the known, the flux of change within is inevitable.
The clouds are like the cities we made of them as children. Sandcastles in the sky I called them. Fantasies of other worlds reflect our wishes. We want it all to be perfect. In our dreams everything lives in harmony. But when those dreams translate into acquiring more and more materially, we become displaced; discontented, until a wakeup call appears.
And this was it!
It is clear to me we can’t just go back to the old ways. We wear the dull cloth of habit because it’s safe. Now we need a real dream of a better world. The clouds and colours, the startling blue on slate grey, the soft paintings of finger clouds; the translucent wash of mauve on a silver sea: they remind us of what beauty there is in the un-acquired.
Nature has shown us how much she improved when we stopped. Birds sang louder, the light seemed brighter, certain animals appeared in spaces we had vacated: Innocents that have no hidden agenda but to live in their natural habitude.
Can we dream a better dream?
I like to think we can…