Monday, 22 August 2016

Awake August #18

Scratchy heatblasted  August, early summer's fecundity has withered with the already falling leaves.There are no flowers to offer, only these mediterranean gifts, some basil and parsley and a few small olive branches and their reminder of peace and hope.

Sunday, 21 August 2016

Awake August #17

The oscillating fan is a lighthouse, sending out beams of coolness that cut and slice the dark heavy heat.

Friday, 19 August 2016

Awake August 16

Preparing lunch in the honeyed light of the kitchen, my husband sanding wood in the next room, a cat weaving around my legs, the 12.30 bus revving up the hill, and the squeak of garlic against knife.

Thursday, 18 August 2016

Awake August 15

While celebrating the full moon with a simple ceremony, I breath the fragrant weight and completeness of the cup, the warmth of the circle within and without, endless spaciousness in my hands.

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Awake August 13

Grey falls like a soft blanket over the blue, summer raindrops thud slowly onto the garden umbrella.

Friday, 12 August 2016

Awake August 12

Pausing, I stood between the damp billowing sheets, enjoying their cool lavender caress.