You should not go to the mountains alone. Because you never know what might suddenly happen. A woman who stayed with us last year also said that she would be fine on the hike to Carrantuohill, but she got stuck in a crack and had to be rescued by helicopter.
-so said John, when I announced that tomorrow I am going to the mountains alone. And he was right, but my desire to climb was stronger than fear that the wind would blow me off the ridge of the higgest mountain of Ireland.
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Nature is silvering my strands of hair
it looks like a morning river
sometimes like a willow bark
or dancing grass on a cliff
The consent to grey hair is a step in getting along with yourself – I read in “Vogue” and kissed the silver strands that have been snowing in my curls for several years.
I think, the first grey hair is difficult to accept, because it is associated with old age, and seems far from the promoted canon of beauty. I had a period where I was thinking I would be forever young. So, when I saw my debut grey hair a few years ago, I started to cut it out, because it was to early have them – I have supposed.
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When the light goes out over my story, I hesitate to get up and make a coffee in an orange mug but I do it and go into the darkness. The wipers can not keep up with the ocean that pours in front of my eyes. I feel dizzy in my head for thirty minutes. And finally, I see that sheep also like to hide under a rock.
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The morning has the taste of dates
nostalgic and quite rough.
The rain is dripping into the coffee
– a friend who listens
my morning poem
I have one regular ritual in the morning for two or even three years. I sit down on a plush sofa with a cup of coffee, with nice porridge (today full of dates), and sometimes with fresh orange juice and a cat on my knees (depending on cat).
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At 6 a.m. I was awoke by the roar of the wind. And although the curtains danced to the rhythm of this ferment, I went out as usual to run along the river.
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So here’s an idea for a more useful game. Next time you go for a walk, pick a bag and fill it with trash, post a picture of it and nominate other friends to do so. We all have gloves and masks, you’ll be isolated so no excuses, but please respect the quarantine restrictions. Please feel free to participate without being nominated
-so wrote Enrico Bagnoli on his Facebook profile and he has motivated others to clean up their nearest areas. He went for a walk and took a large bag full of plastic rubbish and fishing waste on the edge of the ocean.
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Hold the light, it’s inside and will be there day or night
– sang Bert Sommer at the Woodstock festival.
I have no idea how it happens but when I am really resigned and I can not see the sun in my life, even if the sun shines outside the window. When the darkness wants to grab me, then unexpectedly something blue gives me a kiss.
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the cherry blossom
has arrived
as if that is what
we were really waiting for.
from the poem “Cranes lean in” by Imtia Dharker
I’ve always liked to observe the world around me, but since I slowed down more because of a pandemic, I start to see my local piece more clearly. Every morning when I go out to do exercises by the river, I meet up over a dozen species of birds in twenty minutes. Before I usually heard the loudly screaming gulls like in a tube.
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One day, I saw a tall tree on the sunny grass. Its taproots were so spreading so I decided to sit on one of them, and I rested my back on a warm trunk. It was so comfortable like sitting in an armchair and I felt great. Then I thought to go back to this tree every day, which unexpectedly became my companion.
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The door to my house is blue. In the hall, yellow sneakers would like to go somewhere, but no one puts them on. Only the orange rocks from the painting by Roderic O’Connor look at them.
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