Showing posts from February, 2016
Dawn Chorus It starts with one. One skylark singing. One Carson warning. Then the robins and blackbirds join in.  The early birds, like Carson. Then the wrens and warblers as the daylight warms them. Listen. Can you hear them? The warning calls are warming up as well, strengthening their numbers  as the bird song dies away. Listen. Listen. Can you hear them? Listen.  Don’t sleep. Don’t wait to hear  the silence.
My Bag I have a lifetime of projects, that I carry round in a plastic bag. A paper bag would be better environmentally, but plastic is more durable. And it needs to be. It has had to last a lifetime, my bag. A lifetime of ideas, thoughts, doings and sayings carefully annotated and stored for use sometime later. To be finished, or started sometime later. I can add an idea, capture a thought, write it down, so it will be there, safe,  in my bag. It's getting heavy my bag. Who would have thought  that dreams could be so heavy, even encased in paper. It's getting full my bag. So is my life empty with everything on the inside. Perhaps now it’s time  to start emptying it out. Slowly though. One at a time,  and with care. It's getting late. But not too late, I hope, to empty my bag.