I seek the fire. As the autumn sets in, as the winter approaches, I seek the warmth of the flames. As the pressures of my day to day life intensify around me, I look for the strength that the comes from facing a fear, from overcoming an obstacle. I seek the fire. Continue reading “fire”
I remove myself. I set myself apart and I seek sanctuary. For three precious days, I remove myself to the peace and flow of a community whose days follow a simpler and more peaceful pattern than is my normal pace. I give myself the gift of time and I walk the line of the river. I follow the light.
I take an August Break. Inspired by the inspirational Susannah Conway and in the company of a group of brave and interesting women from far flung places from across the world, I commit to publishing one photograph each day for the 31 days that make up this late summer month of August. Continue reading “august break”
I walk quickly. In the hours and days and weeks since I last spend time writing on these pages, much is achieved. The pace is fast. The garden project that began at the foot of my garden in the autumn is all consuming. There is little time for walking the woods around my home, for walking anywhere. The Bothy is transported from the basement of the city university where it has been stored. Supplies are purchased and delivered. Interest is high. Momentum is maintained. The garden project is well underway. Continue reading “spring steps”
I pause. On a morning when snow falls and roads are only passable with care, I take time out. I remove myself from the pressures of daily routines for a few precious hours and I reflect. Over these past few weeks I have have been running hard. Away from myself and a truth I did not want to face. Towards myself and the healing that always comes when a truth is finally faced. I look out onto my snow-covered garden and I pause.
Continue reading “the pause”
I lose myself. Amidst the rush of christmas, the passing of new year, the long dark nights and the short wet days, my soul retreats. It moves to a distant and far off place and I find I must search hard and long to retrieve the connection. I walk. The woods around my home that are my normal path and pattern are dark and mud filled. Instead, I take to the streets of a nearby town, mapping a route lined with the street lights that I do not have in the woods around my home. I walk. I seek the self I lose. I seek the path to follow that will bring me back to myself. Continue reading “a winter’s tale”
It snows. After endless weeks of endless rain and wind, grey skies and dark nights, we are given a reprieve and it snows. Continue reading “snow day”
I wait. I wait for a storm that is due to storm through this area of southern Scotland where I live over these next few days. It is December and we know to be prepared for winter weather as we head towards the shortest day, but this storm is to bring high winds and heavy rain which we are warned will bring down trees and flood our rivers. Roads will become impassable and power may go down. Weekend plans for Christmas shopping are put on hold. Emergency services are on standby. I spend time making sure my mother has everything she needs and retreat to my own well stocked and warm home and I wait. Continue reading “due to desmond”
I walk this week in silence. I retreat northwards to the thin place, where mountains rise high and mists lie low. I walk to find the next stage of my journey. I remove myself from daily routines and daily connections, seeking a stronger sense of myself by being still, by being quiet in this place where the landscape is large and it is safe to be small. Continue reading “the thin place”