hey! frost bench face. how’s it going?
happy new year. first foot forward
gratitude for the sunlight. for the heave and swell of the ocean. for the miraculous, perfect beauty of our bodies
wishing you all, hmmm: love, wisdom and humorous exuberance for the year to come… trust it will be a good ‘un
sea swim! it’s not cold. honest injun. and that’s not just bluster and wim hoffery!
winter sea dunks are fine, the water itself is comparatively balmy (march is far colder)
its all the flummery that makes it tricky… usually a biting wind chill when you get out… tho today, warmest new year forever (NOT a good thing)… this morning, as around high tide, was choppier than i’d usually go in
at any rate for warmth, i’m full christmas blubberous, plus a lustrous luxuriance of pelt… perfectly evolved for the vita aquatica!
didn’t manage to swim on christmas day, as too poorly, first year not in forever… boo… so first swim in 6 weeks …. and pedal too! the thrill and joy of movement! hurrah!
blessings and vibes for 2022 x
‘smile. might never happen’
basgallop, embodying ‘startled’, models a teal turquoise embroidered sparkle scarf sarong
christmas gift from daughter… tho crikey my skin has the colour, texture and probably smell of over-boiled cabbage… blooming winter… have forgotten what the sun looks like!
David R: Your selfies are the best!
marvelous! thanks, especially coming from such a top notch photographer… i love selfies! fascinating how folk, in all of their myriad, preposterous beauty, choose to represent themselves x
crescendo and chaos. the sea is a brute
flung up, then smashed down… the froth of pummel and turmoil
bedlam. brouhaha. beneath this late afternoon winters light
the sea, she is cajoled then threatened…sister moon, brother wind.
volatile… ever the scientist… pour energy into any system, the outcome: BRoiL then fRENZy!
shout into the wind, these your desires and fears….my heart, some sea thing child
super invigourating! and most deffo not for swimming in today
futile feeble to wave either a mobile phone or these few words! but hey, always we do… an urge to share… testament, to bear witness, to immensity
back to bed, a long dreary convalescence… audiobooks, chocolate and bollywood! mellow twixtmas one and all x
‘ha, ha, ha’ (huge booming infectious laughter) ‘i LOVE being loved!’… just listened to desmond tutus desert island discs, immense moral integrity, such a warm engaging character, the cadence of his voice… plus with a ‘desmond’ he even has a level of degree named after him… unique. RIP
leaf kerfuffle! brown, dowdy but exultant… myriad hued… the autumnal tumble, a last leaf hurrah
scampering about the beech wood, like an exuberant puppy… i caught so so many leaves!… each a wish… one for you
hmmm.. catching leaves should be a ceremonial process… a druidic serenade?
station yourself, slightly downwind, of the oldest most majestic beech spirit within the woods
begin the invocation with a bout of strenous whistling… i favour ‘i am the lord of the dance said he’… place one finger, folk singer style in ear, a la Euan McColl… other hand should nestle, nonchalant, in pocket
‘O mighty Beech, begin the gyre, release your leaves of burnished copper!’… the more operatic the better (always!?)
a wind, weary sweeps through the canopy… the leaves begin their fall
some proceed with orderly haste, others pirrhouette, loop da loop, a melodramatic swan song
focus on one, far aloft, leaf summoner, leaf stalker… feel the quiver as it acknowledges the beckon of gravity
down, down it plummets… pounce! a lunge forward, a frenzy of grasp and clutch, the leaf tickles the fingers, then pancake follops over and … ‘BUNDLE’ chucks itself onto the dingy pile of leaf husks on the ground below
but then, unheralded, another leaf, slaps against my forehead… bill stickering into place… i gently peel it off, cheerfully whooping ‘caught one’
aw people, them PEOPLE, make such a fuss about intention! but half the knack is just to acknowledge, have gratitude for, good fortune when we accidentally blunder stumble over it?
oops i’ve gone all Mills and Boon meets the Beano!
anyway, not the easiest of seasons, stodge despondency and despair… thought i’d written something wise in my morning pages… but it remains an indecipherable scrawl!
these eclipse hours… schumann resonance? hathor frequency?
stand beneath the trees… respond with stillness… feel the frequency… strident but calm… the one ringing clarion note that underpins being. bliss