For all the words in my head (those which drift to mind and those which elude), I don’t think I can quite capture the tranquility of spring. Sitting perched on K’s (ground floor) window sill, feet dangling out. Admiring the knobby gnarled tree which supports life on its rough bark, refrains of bird song clear and lilting, scent of virgin air (the freshest offering of every living green), blue sky and cottony clouds – moments like these slip through the cracks of my words. (Though is it not through cracks which light may enter?)
I can only look, and taste, and hear, and feel, with a tremble of delight, the brush of the wind; expand my lungs with desperate, longing, open-mouthed breaths and invite the moment deep, deep, deeper still – won’t you please leave your indelible mark on every fiber of my being?
Another brilliant day: I see picnickers dotting parkers piece, from end to end, children kicking footballs around, a cavalier king charles spaniel loping along with a very in-kingly tongue sticking out, short sleeve shirts outnumbering long sleeve ones, a girl lying under a tree with no book no work nobody just music (I exchanged an envious grin with her). Plans to take my bike for a spin, the hum of anxiety when I realise that I’ve missed a few days of an important-ish revision week (one I desperately need), plans broken, hours in a classroom with resignation hung on the tips of my lips, first conversation ever with D and the sun set and I outfitted my pretty bike and another talk with E (who’s jetting off again) and D. And revision.
I don’t think I’ve written many (if any??) Grand Reflection Pieces this year, but I shall endeavor to capture moments and freeze them, and one day I’ll gather a large handful and…
bask in their shimmer, knit them into a scarf, sow them in my garden, Do Something.