Sea Days

This morning the 'sea breeze' app on my IPad said the wind was NNW and the day 'calm'. No breeze to speak of. We can see the ocean from here, not a huge arc of it but enough to please the heart. Enough too, to witness the changing colours, the different swells and moods of the sea.

When there's a line of breakers close to Granite island then the surf will be up further south at Middleton and Chiton Rocks off Port Elliot.

Sometimes the colour of the sea is a dulled white; at others, deep blue. Some days, rainy days, there's no horizon. Sea and sky merge.

But if it was calm outside is was action inside. Our twenty month old grandson, this old wise very young fellow,, loves games. And so we chased each around the sitting room, me shuffling slowly but noisily, matching his small steps, our slippers chatty with the floorboards, our movements interrputed only by a break for early lunch, the invention of new and crazier games. He picks up on my change of game instantly, knows what's going on. So our morning became one of flow, laughter, the humbling, ennobling expression of presence.

I'm still humming.


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Writing Exercixe: Creative Writing Ink (Ireland)

How many shadows to a life?

Trailing Words

As I grew up I watched my father slowly disappear into grief and silence, the type of work he did - mostly shift work - upset his nervous system and added to what would now be described as post traumatic disorder incurred through internment by the Japanese in China during the War. I resolved not to get caught working in jobs that were dulling and monotonous, not to be trapped into work routines that took over life.

I spent many years being busy 'doing' being rather than allowing myself to be.

This blog I want to meander like a trail, not a straight line or a straight road, as moments between moments, in-dwellings. Maybe it won't be that. I hope it's fun and fun to read and that it honours the heart and honours the Earth.