Thursday, 15 March 2012
Feathers in the Soul . . .
Oh how very fortunate are they who wake up to greet the day through cottage panes . . . looking out on distant hillsides, green fields and winding country lanes . . .
Lucky too . . . the very blessed who from their lattices view the beauty of an old and lovely tree . . . branches gnarled against the weather . . . the stories they could tell, if they had a voice to speak . . . history tucked inside it's bark and layered in it's rings . . .
Oh how very blessed is the one whose casement frames an open view . . . onto an unspoilt landscape . . . fading across and out into wide blue skies . . . the beauty of that wonderful expanse of gentle colour, warms the heart and soul . . .
I can't think of anything more perfect to wake up to . . . than a country scene through a cottage window . . . the golden sunrise bathing all in a golden light. We were thus blessed for a number of years . . . and it was so very beautiful, serene and peaceable . . .
Now we wake up to morning views of terraced houses . . . but . . . they too, have their charms . . . as do our views of the Clywdian Hills off in the distance. The golden light on their green slopes is always inspiring . . . and signals a beautiful day in the offing . . . what could be better than a day which begins with hope?
There is beauty everywhere, if one but stops to look for it . . .
"Hope" is the thing with feathers . . .
That perches in the soul . . .
And sings the tune without the words . . .
And never stops . . . at all . . .
And sweetest . . . in the Gale . . . is heard . . .
And sore must be the storm . . .
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm . . .
I've heard it in the chillest land . . .
And on the strangest Sea . . .
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb . . . of Me.
This is a little piece I did yesterday, which co-incidentally has to do with hope too! Wierd that! I never planned it, honest! I just realized now that I have written about hope and home and promise here this morning and there she is . . . my little tire swing girl, and hope! As usual available as a card or a print suitable for framing.
Off to the hospital early this morning for more blood tests. No worries, I am just going to see if the newest cholesterol drug they have given me is working. My tryglicerides have been up the last few times, so we are trying to get them down. Of course things like this don't help . . .
Cooking in The English Kitchen today, Gnocchi Mac & Cheese with Purple Sprouting Broccoli!
Posted by Marie at 06:22