I finally had the time to sit and have a good read with your words. As always, beautifully written. I know that old oak tree had been waiting for your words before letting go. And perhaps Seth's gentle push was the physical nudge needed, too.
I love to wander through your magical words, makes me feel like I am walking beside you on your hill.
Thank you for sharing it all, Susie. (Hoping your limp has disappeared by now. And that you can walk without pain. Hugs to you.)
Hi Jeannine, thank you so much for reading, you sound busy, I hope you have some moments just for yourself, to relax and enjoy the changing of the season?
Here spring is advancing very quickly… too quickly considering it is only the beginning of March. Everything is blooming and bursting and I worry there will be a late frost, there often is, as a result we lose all the early fruit—plums, cherries and apricots too.
I am still wondering about that old oak, perhaps it did need some quiet and loving persuasion, a little push in the right direction? I guess we will never know but I feel calmed by the fact that I spoke and hugged it well before it finally fell.
Hugs back to you, I do hope winter is fading now… xx
PS let’s not mention the foot — it is being terribly badly behaved!
The snow is here still for awhile, as spring never comes much before the very end of March and sometimes not until April! (My sister lives in British Columbia, on the west side of Canada, and she tells me that spring is starting advancing there as well! Some little flower shoots are coming up! Not here, -23 tonight!)
PS: I promise not to mention the naughty limb again! Take care. x
You gave the oak permission. May we all have that same, gentle permission when it is our time.
Stars… Two nights ago, I saw Orion while standing in my living room, looking up through the 2nd storey windows that face south. I was astonished. I haven’t seen stars like that here for years, not since they put in the convenience store across the street and took away my view of the Milky Way in winter. If I go outside, I can’t see them due to all the lights from the station, from the store, from the headlights. But for a few minutes, I had enough darkness in the house and a clear, small space of sky. Beautiful.
"You gave the oak permission. May we all have that same, gentle permission when it is our time."
Yes! Louise I pray for that permission and to know when the time has come without ceremony. 🙏🏼
I love that your saw Orion, I love that we can share in the beauty of these celestial beings from our different sides of the planet, and, I know, I am so very fortunate to live with minimal light pollution in order to so. I give thanks for it every day Louise. To see the stars whenever the clouds permit is no small thing. I hope you have many more blessed opportunities as spring clears the clouds...
I dont know if energy saving is practiced in the equivalent of each commune in Japan, here, since 2020 most communes in France have opted to turn off all street lights at 10:45 every night meaning here on the hill we are in complete darkness from then until 6:30 the following morning. I imagine that is not so easy in a city?
I am healing, slowly but surely... thank you dear one xx
Susie, you ask about energy saving here in Japan. After the Great Quake of 2011, there was an immediate awareness of saving energy in our area (even though we are on a completely different electric system than the one Tokyo and areas north use). That, of course, faded with time. You’ve seen photos of Tokyo at night, I’m sure. All of neon signs stay lit throughout the night.
We live out in the boondocks, but the convenience stores, the car lots, banks, supermarkets, etc., must broadcast their logos to the few cars and motorcycles that might pass by.
Stars? Which is more important when a sign might becon someone to pick up something at the convenience store? (Sorry, sarcasm runs thick with me.)
How I wish it were possible to follow your lead and turn off the lights at 10:45!
I don't think Japan is the only country to think money comes before everything Louise... hopefully one day it will be law everywhere, the stars will still be shining, hopefully us too xxx
Bonjour Susie! How, oh how, did I manage to miss this lovely post in my inbox? It must have been a harried stretch, or maybe I was reveling in a lovely Valentine's day with my love : ). I'm so glad to be getting caught up! Better late than never, I suppose. I loved wandering with you on your hill, but also through your thoughts, your questions, and your insights. What a treat! Consider yourself hugged right back❤️
Salut ma belle! I think revelling in Valentines day is reason enough not to be on-line Sumaya, I hope every second is now a beautiful and romantic rose scented memory!
I am forever behind on my reading here... there are so very many exceptional writers, all delight and inspire me, it would be so easy to just lose myself in their stories and prose and poetry so I completely understand any tardiness, especially when I know you have a family and animals to feed and love. I am expert at being late!
Thank you for joining my wanderings in the wilderness of a winter hill, I can see by your videos that you have a love of your own hill that is equally passionate, it's important work to love our land — I know you know lovely one. Thank you a thousand times for the hugs... ♥️xx
Hello Eric, Thank you for your attentive reading. I think I may have also emitted a sound when I saw old oak had fallen, not a gasp, more a deep sigh in acknowledgment and understanding.
There is a place, paradise in name and nature, where deep magic abides. Paradise of imperfections, of “Tumbling tarnished shades of grey clouds tangoing with sunlight in intervals of shadow light” captured in magic spells cast across oceans to conjure enchantments in other hearts. Thank you for your poetry, dear Susie. Your words enchant me x
Hello lovely Em, I so hope the sunshine has found you in your little corner of England, my hill is aching for warm sunbeams right now, the slopes and woodland are all mud and landslides! Paradise still but only if you like mud bathing… Oh but the clouds are pretty as they race across the tops, and I am beguiled completely by reflections in puddles and winter lakes. There is always something magical, I know well you see it too!
Always a huge thank you to you coming with hugs xx
Ah we have seen a little sunshine, a day - just one, since Christmas - rain free! We are sodden. But as you say, there is still magic and enchantment, we just look harder through the mud… much love xx
Apparently France is catching up with the Uk’s record 39 days of rain… we are on day 35 which is the longest spell of rain in forty years! Apparently tomorrow will be dry from 9am onwards and then, unbelievably we have four beautiful days forecast with temps reaching 21c… today was just 5c all day! I can’t believe my luck because winter holidays start tomorrow too and they are much needed whether it rains or not. Happy weekend hugs xxx
And, spring is singing from every branch of every tree, for the fourth time in as many days I watched Roe Deer walking the edge of the hill, a handsome young stag with his pretty doe. I think, no I hope, they are becoming used to me, and there are now a whole army of daffodils staring at me from the neighbours garden. Warmer, sunnier day are not so far now.
I am both saddened and relieved the oak fell, she was a sick old lady, she has hung on for the twenty years I have been here and she needed to rest, though I will never stop being shocked by the sight of an old tree laying rather than standing.
I hope your week is being kind dear one, I hope you are being kind to yourself xoxo
Thank you for reminding me—I will only surrender to love.
To never miss the opportunity for a front row center seat to the greatest concert on earth—literally. The orchestra playing Mike Oldsfield’s Tubular Bells, and in Tubular Bells fashion, all things right in this world have a solo spotlight performance.
—Even the mighty soul of an Oak needs a mindful “whisper”—‘it is okay to go’.
Thank you for reminding me—to take a celestial road trip on the handle of the Big Dipper (though that sounds more like a bucket list for the forever after). And for reminding me while our landscape says—‘I am winter, hear me roar’—be diligent when stomping through deep snow, spring is under wraps and alive, in the subnivean layer below. And thank you for the freedom from my own “grumbling”—gently washed away by each footfall on the hill.
I finally had the chance to read ‘England to Ireland’ with Mike Oldsfield along for the ride.(Great story and gorgeous house and a heck of a cast of characters). I was going to attach Tubular Bells to my original comment, but could not find the section where he introduces each instrument along with their solo performance. Now that would really have cemented this very strange and wonderful coincidence. Truthfully, I didn’t expect you to know the music, I would say that after your trip, you listened to Tubular Bells more times than I ever have. If I knew how to highlight a name and Substack, I would have added E.T. Allen— Coincidence Speaks—or plays the same tune 🎶
Ha! Thanks for reading through that early epic, it was so many years ago now and yet still as clear as yesterday. I guess if I had been clever enough I would have used each instrument (the introduction to each is embellished in my memory) as a metaphor for the characters, maybe in a rewrite some-day?
I found the entire finale, took a while but here..; just in case you feel the urge, is the link; 🎵
Just returned—I cannot even begin to tell you how much fun and joy it brought me. I burst out laughing, enough noise to startle the Cardinals in the tree above me—as soon as he said : grand piano 🎶🎶……🙏
Lor I dont know if you read an early post of mine recollecting the journey from England to Ireland (probably in desperate need of editing now but… lack of time is prohibiting such faffing, one day maybe? or maybe not? probably not!) if you did you would understand why the mention of Mike Oldfield’s ‘Tubular Bells’ gives me goosebumps! And it had nothing to do with the weather although it was very appropriate music at the time too…
The oak tree falling was something I have thought about every day since..; it feels slightly macabre to have spoken those words, to have found it lying in defeat (or acceptance) the following morning but the fact is it is — something inside me felt relief, something else a great sadness.
And stars… I have a new passion! I can’t wait for summer, to lie in warm breezes at the top of the hill, to see a vast expanse of sky unaltered by roof tops in all its celestial glory!
Right now, my heart is full of holiday hopes, first, a few dry days… after just rest and roaming. Love always dear one. xx
I definitely did not ‘set foot on your hill until, I am guessing, late 2024. Now you have given me ‘goosebumps’. I am heading over to read your post, I’ll be back!
The grand oak! My Susie! You reminded me of a story my mom once told. Similar. A great spruce stood on the north side of my childhood home and she was fretting that it needed to come down to install ground solar panels. So she went to the tree and begged for her forgiveness, apologizing, thanking her for her good life. That night, a wind storm came up and lifted the tree rootball and all, out of the ground. Can you believe it? I’m sure you can. And your dear son someday will too. ❤️
KImberly I love your story and yes! I can totally believe it!
When we lived in Ireland there were two beautiful old and too fragile larch trees growing close to the house, too close! It broke our hearts to even think about cutting them down but had they fallen they would have destroyed not only the barn but half of the house also.
We agonised over the actual deed for the entire first summer deciding that we were incapable of such an act and that we would call someone who was instead. The day before he was due to arrive, we too stood by the trees told them we were sorry, pleaded for understanding. That afternoon a howling wind from the west arrived carrying torrential rain, it lasted 36 hours, the chainsaw man cancelled before it was even over, said he’d call back when the weather had calmed but he had not need, just two hours before the wind turned both trees snapped in two falling between the house and the barn, they missed us by bare inches taking just a few tiles from each roof. The root balls remained firmly in the ground and the trees threw new shoots the following spring.
In the end I think we saved them because to my knowledge they are still growing today. 🌲💚🌲
Wow wow wow! Incredible. Trees hear us. Trees know us. Now if only all humans could learn to return the love and really listen to their wishes too. xoxo
Your writing reads like lyric poetry, capturing all the reasons for looking up, looking out, looking all around, listening to nature's concerts, giving ground to what matters.
Maureen thank you for taking the time to read this post so attentively. I always believed, as I grew older, I would have time to waste, time to literally wander aimlessly. It has never happened, quite the reverse in fact! The result is I find I owe a great deal of time to paying attention to the concerts nature provides (they are free after all), as such when I do find those precious free moments necessary to do so, I try not to miss even the smallest detail. I do, of course I do, there are far too many gifts to be aware of each but I do my best. I believe it to be important work, to love the land I live on, to know it like a best friend.
"The reek of wet silage stinging our nostrils". A perfect description of the pungent smell of that cattle fodder, Susie! I loved the upward gaze at the stars, too.
I am sure the smell of silage has become yet more pungent over the years Jeffrey… or perhaps it is simply wind direction and temperature? Whatever the reason, this winter has been one of almost constant stinging nostrils! Thank goodness for stars and celestial bodies…
So happy for you that you are nearly healed and up to your normal speedy speed Susie. I can just picture you hurriedly limping as adorable Seth chats away. Mother and Son walking in the hills where trees are strong and where trees also fall.
The moon photo. 💛
Sheep tiptoeing like "dainty wool clad ballerinas." 🩷
All of it. Yes, as Mary Oliver says, "Be astonished and tell about it."
As I type Jo, the limp is gone! My woollen dancers are tired of their steps and have cabined up in their fresh hay strewn shelter while the wind howls down the valley in what, I pray is, a final attempt to be wintry!
"Be astonished and tell about it" has taken on a whole new meaning over last weeks... but 35 days of rain straight will do that right?
Thank you for being here dear one, you are much loved and appreciated. Have a fabulous weekend ♥️xx
Crazy lady, I did a crazy thing yesterday; I kissed a tree. Nothing to do with Valentine's Day, but love was in the air... I love your writing, have I told you that?
That you love my writing makes my heart sing dear Fotini, thank you dearest one. I believe tree kissing should be an every day thing! Like eating, essential to healthy life!
You, Susie, raise me up when I am down and you do it with the symphony of your words about the body and the land. Imagery that soars! Counting stars here but not tonight as rain, thank goodness, comes again--for fire is always the challenge where I live. But the bigger challenge is the aging body that we must love and care for and listen to its cues.
I will think of you, dear Mary, the next time I am gazing up at the countless stars in the universe, wishing more than a little magic to befall you, to keep you safe in the arms of sparkling good health always and envelope you in the warmth of love...
Thank you beautiful soul.
PS I am going to try to stay awake for yours and Kimberly's book launch party but I have to admit, 2:30 am may be pushing my luck xx
I finally had the time to sit and have a good read with your words. As always, beautifully written. I know that old oak tree had been waiting for your words before letting go. And perhaps Seth's gentle push was the physical nudge needed, too.
I love to wander through your magical words, makes me feel like I am walking beside you on your hill.
Thank you for sharing it all, Susie. (Hoping your limp has disappeared by now. And that you can walk without pain. Hugs to you.)
Hi Jeannine, thank you so much for reading, you sound busy, I hope you have some moments just for yourself, to relax and enjoy the changing of the season?
Here spring is advancing very quickly… too quickly considering it is only the beginning of March. Everything is blooming and bursting and I worry there will be a late frost, there often is, as a result we lose all the early fruit—plums, cherries and apricots too.
I am still wondering about that old oak, perhaps it did need some quiet and loving persuasion, a little push in the right direction? I guess we will never know but I feel calmed by the fact that I spoke and hugged it well before it finally fell.
Hugs back to you, I do hope winter is fading now… xx
PS let’s not mention the foot — it is being terribly badly behaved!
The snow is here still for awhile, as spring never comes much before the very end of March and sometimes not until April! (My sister lives in British Columbia, on the west side of Canada, and she tells me that spring is starting advancing there as well! Some little flower shoots are coming up! Not here, -23 tonight!)
PS: I promise not to mention the naughty limb again! Take care. x
You gave the oak permission. May we all have that same, gentle permission when it is our time.
Stars… Two nights ago, I saw Orion while standing in my living room, looking up through the 2nd storey windows that face south. I was astonished. I haven’t seen stars like that here for years, not since they put in the convenience store across the street and took away my view of the Milky Way in winter. If I go outside, I can’t see them due to all the lights from the station, from the store, from the headlights. But for a few minutes, I had enough darkness in the house and a clear, small space of sky. Beautiful.
Heal quickly, my friend. xx
"You gave the oak permission. May we all have that same, gentle permission when it is our time."
Yes! Louise I pray for that permission and to know when the time has come without ceremony. 🙏🏼
I love that your saw Orion, I love that we can share in the beauty of these celestial beings from our different sides of the planet, and, I know, I am so very fortunate to live with minimal light pollution in order to so. I give thanks for it every day Louise. To see the stars whenever the clouds permit is no small thing. I hope you have many more blessed opportunities as spring clears the clouds...
I dont know if energy saving is practiced in the equivalent of each commune in Japan, here, since 2020 most communes in France have opted to turn off all street lights at 10:45 every night meaning here on the hill we are in complete darkness from then until 6:30 the following morning. I imagine that is not so easy in a city?
I am healing, slowly but surely... thank you dear one xx
Susie, you ask about energy saving here in Japan. After the Great Quake of 2011, there was an immediate awareness of saving energy in our area (even though we are on a completely different electric system than the one Tokyo and areas north use). That, of course, faded with time. You’ve seen photos of Tokyo at night, I’m sure. All of neon signs stay lit throughout the night.
We live out in the boondocks, but the convenience stores, the car lots, banks, supermarkets, etc., must broadcast their logos to the few cars and motorcycles that might pass by.
Stars? Which is more important when a sign might becon someone to pick up something at the convenience store? (Sorry, sarcasm runs thick with me.)
How I wish it were possible to follow your lead and turn off the lights at 10:45!
I don't think Japan is the only country to think money comes before everything Louise... hopefully one day it will be law everywhere, the stars will still be shining, hopefully us too xxx
Bonjour Susie! How, oh how, did I manage to miss this lovely post in my inbox? It must have been a harried stretch, or maybe I was reveling in a lovely Valentine's day with my love : ). I'm so glad to be getting caught up! Better late than never, I suppose. I loved wandering with you on your hill, but also through your thoughts, your questions, and your insights. What a treat! Consider yourself hugged right back❤️
Salut ma belle! I think revelling in Valentines day is reason enough not to be on-line Sumaya, I hope every second is now a beautiful and romantic rose scented memory!
I am forever behind on my reading here... there are so very many exceptional writers, all delight and inspire me, it would be so easy to just lose myself in their stories and prose and poetry so I completely understand any tardiness, especially when I know you have a family and animals to feed and love. I am expert at being late!
Thank you for joining my wanderings in the wilderness of a winter hill, I can see by your videos that you have a love of your own hill that is equally passionate, it's important work to love our land — I know you know lovely one. Thank you a thousand times for the hugs... ♥️xx
“The following morning, thirteen short hours later, silently, in the darkness of night, it fell.”
Gasped aloud 💙
Hello Eric, Thank you for your attentive reading. I think I may have also emitted a sound when I saw old oak had fallen, not a gasp, more a deep sigh in acknowledgment and understanding.
listening to hope 💚
It’s important work my friend 💚
Susie limps along
Seth, stars shine. Sends off old Oak.
She shall not miss out.
Always you bring
a happy smile Marisol…
I send you heart blessings.
counting stars right along with you…
what a beautiful piece
thank you so
With the greatest of pleasure Alix, never stop counting stars…
There is a place, paradise in name and nature, where deep magic abides. Paradise of imperfections, of “Tumbling tarnished shades of grey clouds tangoing with sunlight in intervals of shadow light” captured in magic spells cast across oceans to conjure enchantments in other hearts. Thank you for your poetry, dear Susie. Your words enchant me x
Hello lovely Em, I so hope the sunshine has found you in your little corner of England, my hill is aching for warm sunbeams right now, the slopes and woodland are all mud and landslides! Paradise still but only if you like mud bathing… Oh but the clouds are pretty as they race across the tops, and I am beguiled completely by reflections in puddles and winter lakes. There is always something magical, I know well you see it too!
Always a huge thank you to you coming with hugs xx
Ah we have seen a little sunshine, a day - just one, since Christmas - rain free! We are sodden. But as you say, there is still magic and enchantment, we just look harder through the mud… much love xx
Apparently France is catching up with the Uk’s record 39 days of rain… we are on day 35 which is the longest spell of rain in forty years! Apparently tomorrow will be dry from 9am onwards and then, unbelievably we have four beautiful days forecast with temps reaching 21c… today was just 5c all day! I can’t believe my luck because winter holidays start tomorrow too and they are much needed whether it rains or not. Happy weekend hugs xxx
Yay for the holidays and dry weather - perfect for hill wanderings and pictures xx
I hope so, it feels like weeks since even a short walk has been possible without getting drenched! xx
Susie! I adore your relationship with this land. You telling that oak she can let go is one of the most wonderful things I’ve heard.
And I love, picturing Seth, strides ahead, simply talking louder.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Thank you for sharing your hill.
Also, I so understand and respect your desire to not miss out. May you heal quickly!
Healing is working its magic Holly, thank you.
And, spring is singing from every branch of every tree, for the fourth time in as many days I watched Roe Deer walking the edge of the hill, a handsome young stag with his pretty doe. I think, no I hope, they are becoming used to me, and there are now a whole army of daffodils staring at me from the neighbours garden. Warmer, sunnier day are not so far now.
I am both saddened and relieved the oak fell, she was a sick old lady, she has hung on for the twenty years I have been here and she needed to rest, though I will never stop being shocked by the sight of an old tree laying rather than standing.
I hope your week is being kind dear one, I hope you are being kind to yourself xoxo
Thank you for reminding me—I will only surrender to love.
To never miss the opportunity for a front row center seat to the greatest concert on earth—literally. The orchestra playing Mike Oldsfield’s Tubular Bells, and in Tubular Bells fashion, all things right in this world have a solo spotlight performance.
—Even the mighty soul of an Oak needs a mindful “whisper”—‘it is okay to go’.
Thank you for reminding me—to take a celestial road trip on the handle of the Big Dipper (though that sounds more like a bucket list for the forever after). And for reminding me while our landscape says—‘I am winter, hear me roar’—be diligent when stomping through deep snow, spring is under wraps and alive, in the subnivean layer below. And thank you for the freedom from my own “grumbling”—gently washed away by each footfall on the hill.
“ A handful of February “
A heart full.
Here I am, Me voilà!
With goosebumps.
I finally had the chance to read ‘England to Ireland’ with Mike Oldsfield along for the ride.(Great story and gorgeous house and a heck of a cast of characters). I was going to attach Tubular Bells to my original comment, but could not find the section where he introduces each instrument along with their solo performance. Now that would really have cemented this very strange and wonderful coincidence. Truthfully, I didn’t expect you to know the music, I would say that after your trip, you listened to Tubular Bells more times than I ever have. If I knew how to highlight a name and Substack, I would have added E.T. Allen— Coincidence Speaks—or plays the same tune 🎶
Ha! Thanks for reading through that early epic, it was so many years ago now and yet still as clear as yesterday. I guess if I had been clever enough I would have used each instrument (the introduction to each is embellished in my memory) as a metaphor for the characters, maybe in a rewrite some-day?
I found the entire finale, took a while but here..; just in case you feel the urge, is the link; 🎵
https://youtu.be/wxSD8-phZZ0?si=oimx4QZXR_Hhj4mH
PS I am not sure it is even possible to highlight another Substack user in comments — shame!
Heading out for a snowstorm hike , 7” new, on top of 2’ ! Happy to listen to TB while I float through the snow.
I will join you vicariously Lor… Seth and I are walking the ridge - we are still grey on grey!
Just returned—I cannot even begin to tell you how much fun and joy it brought me. I burst out laughing, enough noise to startle the Cardinals in the tree above me—as soon as he said : grand piano 🎶🎶……🙏
Lor I dont know if you read an early post of mine recollecting the journey from England to Ireland (probably in desperate need of editing now but… lack of time is prohibiting such faffing, one day maybe? or maybe not? probably not!) if you did you would understand why the mention of Mike Oldfield’s ‘Tubular Bells’ gives me goosebumps! And it had nothing to do with the weather although it was very appropriate music at the time too…
The oak tree falling was something I have thought about every day since..; it feels slightly macabre to have spoken those words, to have found it lying in defeat (or acceptance) the following morning but the fact is it is — something inside me felt relief, something else a great sadness.
And stars… I have a new passion! I can’t wait for summer, to lie in warm breezes at the top of the hill, to see a vast expanse of sky unaltered by roof tops in all its celestial glory!
Right now, my heart is full of holiday hopes, first, a few dry days… after just rest and roaming. Love always dear one. xx
https://open.substack.com/pub/ahillandi/p/from-hill-to-hill-part-2?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web
I definitely did not ‘set foot on your hill until, I am guessing, late 2024. Now you have given me ‘goosebumps’. I am heading over to read your post, I’ll be back!
The grand oak! My Susie! You reminded me of a story my mom once told. Similar. A great spruce stood on the north side of my childhood home and she was fretting that it needed to come down to install ground solar panels. So she went to the tree and begged for her forgiveness, apologizing, thanking her for her good life. That night, a wind storm came up and lifted the tree rootball and all, out of the ground. Can you believe it? I’m sure you can. And your dear son someday will too. ❤️
KImberly I love your story and yes! I can totally believe it!
When we lived in Ireland there were two beautiful old and too fragile larch trees growing close to the house, too close! It broke our hearts to even think about cutting them down but had they fallen they would have destroyed not only the barn but half of the house also.
We agonised over the actual deed for the entire first summer deciding that we were incapable of such an act and that we would call someone who was instead. The day before he was due to arrive, we too stood by the trees told them we were sorry, pleaded for understanding. That afternoon a howling wind from the west arrived carrying torrential rain, it lasted 36 hours, the chainsaw man cancelled before it was even over, said he’d call back when the weather had calmed but he had not need, just two hours before the wind turned both trees snapped in two falling between the house and the barn, they missed us by bare inches taking just a few tiles from each roof. The root balls remained firmly in the ground and the trees threw new shoots the following spring.
In the end I think we saved them because to my knowledge they are still growing today. 🌲💚🌲
Wow wow wow! Incredible. Trees hear us. Trees know us. Now if only all humans could learn to return the love and really listen to their wishes too. xoxo
Your writing reads like lyric poetry, capturing all the reasons for looking up, looking out, looking all around, listening to nature's concerts, giving ground to what matters.
Maureen thank you for taking the time to read this post so attentively. I always believed, as I grew older, I would have time to waste, time to literally wander aimlessly. It has never happened, quite the reverse in fact! The result is I find I owe a great deal of time to paying attention to the concerts nature provides (they are free after all), as such when I do find those precious free moments necessary to do so, I try not to miss even the smallest detail. I do, of course I do, there are far too many gifts to be aware of each but I do my best. I believe it to be important work, to love the land I live on, to know it like a best friend.
"The reek of wet silage stinging our nostrils". A perfect description of the pungent smell of that cattle fodder, Susie! I loved the upward gaze at the stars, too.
I am sure the smell of silage has become yet more pungent over the years Jeffrey… or perhaps it is simply wind direction and temperature? Whatever the reason, this winter has been one of almost constant stinging nostrils! Thank goodness for stars and celestial bodies…
Thank heaven indeed! Though I used to enjoy the days whwn the silage was cut on the farm, the smell of the grass mingling with the warmer spring air.
So happy for you that you are nearly healed and up to your normal speedy speed Susie. I can just picture you hurriedly limping as adorable Seth chats away. Mother and Son walking in the hills where trees are strong and where trees also fall.
The moon photo. 💛
Sheep tiptoeing like "dainty wool clad ballerinas." 🩷
All of it. Yes, as Mary Oliver says, "Be astonished and tell about it."
Thank you Susie! ❤️
As I type Jo, the limp is gone! My woollen dancers are tired of their steps and have cabined up in their fresh hay strewn shelter while the wind howls down the valley in what, I pray is, a final attempt to be wintry!
"Be astonished and tell about it" has taken on a whole new meaning over last weeks... but 35 days of rain straight will do that right?
Thank you for being here dear one, you are much loved and appreciated. Have a fabulous weekend ♥️xx
Yay Susie. Good to hear you will be powering full strength around those hills again.
35 days of rain in a row! Wow.
Thank you for your very kind reply. You being here means a lot. xxx
♥️🥰
Crazy lady, I did a crazy thing yesterday; I kissed a tree. Nothing to do with Valentine's Day, but love was in the air... I love your writing, have I told you that?
That you love my writing makes my heart sing dear Fotini, thank you dearest one. I believe tree kissing should be an every day thing! Like eating, essential to healthy life!
💛
You, Susie, raise me up when I am down and you do it with the symphony of your words about the body and the land. Imagery that soars! Counting stars here but not tonight as rain, thank goodness, comes again--for fire is always the challenge where I live. But the bigger challenge is the aging body that we must love and care for and listen to its cues.
I will think of you, dear Mary, the next time I am gazing up at the countless stars in the universe, wishing more than a little magic to befall you, to keep you safe in the arms of sparkling good health always and envelope you in the warmth of love...
Thank you beautiful soul.
PS I am going to try to stay awake for yours and Kimberly's book launch party but I have to admit, 2:30 am may be pushing my luck xx