Folds of golden light
Meander along dark skies
Foreshadowing rain
Category: January Small Stones
January Small Stone# Seven
I’ve been preoccupied with writing an assignment for my creative writing course for a while. It’s been a tough one and I have been getting increasingly tense for the last week as the deadline crept closer. When I started this particular story I enjoyed it, it amused me, but as time went on I was drawn deeper into the character, to the point where I was unable to be objective. I’ve been working on it for too long, the season meant that I had extra time and I’ve used it badly. I’ve read lots of short stories – as I’m supposed to, and that’s been great, but the story has been stop-start. As a result, now that I have finally submitted the blinking thing, I am thoroughly bored by it.
Goodbye assignment two. Hello new section and new writing – I welcome you!
January Small Stone# Six
Red vested love bird
tweets declaring territory
scatters flyers its size twenty times
widgeon’s scarved with orange rise,
with wings a choir of sopranos
and a solo plover wades haughtily by
January mist over Riversmeet
tide covers a murking of mud
fading web prints rushing away
taken by sizzling foam
twitchers with tripoded lenses
gaggle off to identify geese
arriving as guests of the Clyst.
January Small Stone# Three
After work today my friend and I went to Topsham and had a gentle stroll around the empty streets, along to the end of the Goatwalk for a view of the estuary in the dark. Although the sun had set at four-thirty, the lights were shining down river at Exmouth and across the river to the west at Starcross. Occasionally the glow worm lights of a train travelled along the far shore, and a gap in the clouds, where the moon sprang through, created a reflection of the same oval shape in the water.
We were actually being peeping Toms – slowly walking past the windows that had curtains open. Several homes had lights on, giving us a tiny insight into their world. Fairy lights and a few Christmas trees were still visible and the soft glow from hearths, plump sofas, cosy cushions and curled up pets. At one house where the kitchen was at the front, we could see an elderly couple chatting over a teapot at the table, as they must have for decades. A magical walk. 
January Small Stone# Two
Copper
Your crown of curls lack moisture, essential oils.
Trimmed, layered on top and sides,
thinning but holding on.
Bronze highlights as the clouds gape,
lingering on dry furls.
A crispy crest, shivering, falling
crinkly towards the ground.
January Small Stone # One
My first small stone of 2013. I went to the Otter estuary today, to celebrate the New Year sunshine that Mother Nature generously provided. Can you imagine how excited I was to see a magical rainbow?
What a wonderful message full of meaning, we are being sent the light that we need, the seven colours of the Chakras, bringing balance and harmony to the world.
January Small Stones # 31
I’ve always hated endings. Way back in time when I left school, I hated saying goodbye to teachers, other girls, even the building. If I see people in films parting, I cry, if I have to leave even a job that I hate, I still get upset. When I have to say goodbye to friends I make on holiday around the world, I cry.
As a therapist, I build intense, often long, relationships where my clients share their deepest untold secrets; hopefully they heal and are strong enough to continue their paths without me. This is a wonderful milestone that is tinged with sadness for them, to leave their ‘mummy’ and go it alone, but they are surprised that I should have a tear as well.
So here I am at stone 31 feeling sad because it’s finished. I’m very pleased with myself, I didn’t think I would make every day and several times thought I would just skip a day, no-one would know – except me of course. So I held on and found something to say or a photo to take. I haven’t taken it as seriously as some, I’ve mucked about and had a laugh, maybe not been as ‘mindful’ as intended and reprimanded myself for that, now that I am good at!
I’ve met some lovely people, received warm loving comments and read some superb writing this month and I really will take part again. Meanwhile, thank you to all involved with January Small Stones, Writing Our Way Home, and a big fat brave, GOODBYE until next time.
January Small Stones # 29
Nesting
Canopies of trees have burst their buds.
testing, is it time to blossom?
to herald the coming green?
listen . . . no barren avenues today
the air orchestrated with birdsong.
blackbirds call from the horse chestnut roof
wives chime replies from birch spires.
a lilting debate about whether it’s time.
whether it’s the weather yet
or the risk of a frozen February mist.
begin early, there may be three nest-full’s
hatching this year. three full nests?
that’s an awful lot of work
but a full of bounty of worm, who can resist?
My lovely friend Isadora, a talented poet http://insidethemindofisadora.wordpress.com/
suggested that I submit this poem here http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com/
January Small Stones # 28
I went to walk in Danes wood today hoping to see snowdrops. There were a few along the lane from Poltimore to Killerton but none in the woods. Disappointing, but never mind, I’ve found a photo from a couple of years ago.
Determined not to get too snowdrop depressed, this is what I took home instead.
I know. But I didn’t promise to be rational did I???
January Small Stones # 27
Today the news is full of outrage because the boss of a major bank, owned by UK taxpayers is to receive a huge bonus payout, a little short of a million pounds. I was also financially outraged today, on a slightly smaller scale ;-), when I went to make a purchase. I’ve had a cold for a few days, quite unusual for me, and this morning I’d dripped my way through all the tissues I had with me. So in my lunch break I popped into the small branch of a certain major news retailer, set up as a convenience store in the hospital, during my lunch break. I saw three choices and asked the price of each, expecting to pay through the nose (PTP!) a little. My first option was the equivalent of the quality you would find in a pound shop, the next the basic version of the brand name and the last the man sized brand name. The prices, can you guess? £2.49, £2.99 and £3.79, I kid you not, this is for a single box of tissues, and I nearly fell through the floor. ‘What? I only want one box, I would expect twin or triple packs for that.’ They looked at me as if I was crazy and offered a handbag ten pack for 99p. As it was that or my sleeve I had to fork out. Is it that I am a complete raging crone? Or do you agree that it’s totally nasty to charge prices that high, when most of the customers are patients or their visitors? Being in hospital is stressful enough without being ripped off and taken advantage of by a large national company. Grrrh.
Lucid Gypsy 