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Vishudda…. the exuberant fizz of beech trees coming into soft lime leaf… a gentle blizzard, burr of brown leaf husks fills the air…
pics from yesterday, found bluebells galore!… languish surrounded by them in the dappled sunshine…
at ease amongst the elementals… this land, our land, heart yearn, magnificent in this spring, all the sweeter through these days of worry…
hope you have the fortune to spend time in the woods

….
for lol:
Ha, truth is a mouthful of my ‘beautiful’mutterings is seldom far away, cept in these curious days slightly less extroverted… You and Fran are some of the many folk I always associate with Beltane bluebell-age xx

Aw and hope your keeping up with your tales (as with muddy log in bluebell woods)… World is the richer for all of us saying it into being xx

idle pensée… hunkered down on the brow of the hill, gorse flowers, dense clumps of dragon goblet gold
blackthorn with straggled open branches, creamy froth of blossom, the impossible festoon from each smidgin of surface
hawthorn pushes through into soft green leaf
the spell of water… peering down upon a pond, which in turn yields up the sky, a nuanced, mottled reflection of clouds… nuage
a riff on the idea of ‘sky’, with its serpent deeper, more sonorous timbre, tone and flow
minuet between air and water, the surface wind ruffled, pucker kiss stippled
we are forever poised between this up and that down!
bramble snag of mind, wistful, the yearning to tell is always one of the forms of love?

skinny love!… thats the astonishingly yum nettle pesto spaghetti rather than me
teetering on the edge of doolally already… woke up somewhat manic monday this morning, which at least is a change from a week of being weary and despondent
a glut of meditation, yoga and cleaning the shower!… daughter has sensibly retreated to her room