Thank you Danielle, it is indeed an enchanted place, the fairies have stayed hidden but I know they’re there, I hear their giggles and twittering from the underworlds… 🧚🏽♂️
Thanks Jo… you’re very welcome - Spring is losing the battle in the temperature stakes this week, there was a heavy frost this morning and forecast for the next five days… I’m all of a sudden relived that I’m so behind in planting up my vegetable garden..!!
One day I’ll find the words I’m looking for to write the story of that woodland… I hope! X
Your delightful woodland is a host to countless microcosms that you’ve nurtured and befriended over the years. Such a gift to one’s mind, body and soul!
I’m so glad you know this story already darling… why I can’t get the words out as I’d like I’ve no idea - I guess there is time for everything ! Sending love and light from within the mutterings of the microcosms ♥️xxx
I loved this sentence, how I exhaled into spring and then was yanked right back into winter’s grip. “Winter days escape from wherever it is they tuck themselves away when spring shows up all loud and green and warm, returning to knock, frigid and persistent.” The tension is alive right now as light and dark play tug-of-war. It tickles me ti know that your teenage son leans into the light by eating spring mustard. Does it grow wild there? How does he eat it?! Something awfully adorable about this, almost photographic in my mind, greens falling from his grin.
We have been tugged back and forth on a wave of indecision by dear MN this spring Kimberly, I exhale very time I feel a warm day and take a sharp inhale again as the next sends me searching for logs and woolies. Today is not an exception…
Mustard is grown in vast oceans of waving yellow here, the wild plants I have seen, I have a feeling, are those where seeds have escaped their boundary’s. The mustard monster, aka my boy Seth, who towers above me now at aged 15 physically and mentally has been a mustard addict since he was 3. I wish I could verify your vision, far healthier than the reality, with stories of mustard greens but the truth is, he will pick out the flowers and the leaves from a salad and wait for me to magic the seeds into mustard in a pot, which applies liberally to everything and anything, grinning yes, but more mustard yellow than green!
With love Kimberly, on a Sunday morning chilled in all ways… xxx
Wonderful storytelling, transporting us to small hidden patches of nature echoing with your wonderful descriptions and the sounds of Spring awakening. Love these postcards.
Always I write these with biggest thanks to you for helping generate the idea Barrie, I’d never have time to write anything through these busy spring months otherwise! I’ve been using the new journaling app from Apple on my phone to take notes… is as good as it gets at the moment but I’d be lost (for words) right now without it! Exhausted seems to be the main theme! Anyway, a very big and belated thank you!
Susie! Thank you for the kind words and the recommendation. You turned my head with the introduction to your post, full of mystery and anticipation for your reclaimed forest.
It's a privilege to see my name in a post that also has this: "I am a thief of nature... of a beguiling patch of light and dark that sits at the bottom of our field." (I think you are a *midwife* of nature, but a "thief" makes a good story.) ☺️
You are very welcome, I’m just sorry it’s taken me so long to nip over to your beautiful Quiet Reading… huge apologies for my tardiness Tara.
I still haven’t found the magic in the words I write for the story, almost as if having stolen the woodland, my penance is having the words stolen back… such is this cyclic life!
Thank you for reading, I wish you a beautiful rest of your day’
When you wander about upon your hill, attentive to all this delicate majesty, we readers float along around you, like spirits, waiting to be brought to life by these postcards, so that we too can waft about upon your hill, and revel in all the beauty that you share. Thanks. Now I have owlets in my mind where there were none. What a wonderful thing.
If this is indeed true Jonathan then I can consider my work successful. To transport with words a likeminded soul, a kindred spirit or and even more precious, those that are bound to life by concrete and steel is my infinite wish… I am privileged to live where I do, to be so much a part of a tiny part of this beautiful planet, I feel and see and hear this with my entire knowing and in knowing that others are not I feel a profound responsibility to share… quite simply for the good of them and my conscience. You and others floating, like spirits, by my side as I wander are words that sit well, perfectly even! Thank you.
PS I can actually not think of many things more lovely than owlets to carry in one’s mind for a day! You are welcome.. I am checking daily for more, to continue the transporting…
This was so beautiful and felt good to read, Susie. I love the description of the two old gentlemen oaks. I also love the photo at the top. Always such a wonder how woods are different and the same in different parts of the world.
If ever a tree was a gentleman Deirdre, it’s the oak! I cannot see these marvels of strength and stability in any other light… there are other of course, but the oak is mighty. Even in dying…
Woodland is made of light and dark, the trees may change in the species but that, to me, is all… thank you for being here Deirdre… I hope a week-end of snaps is is in the making!
I do love your postcards, they say so much and hint at more! Can't wait to hear more about the tiny woodland in particular. Now, I'm off to research mustard eating (mustard, horseradish, wasabi etcetera were some of my very favourites, up until some point last year, when they suddenly lost all flavour, before returning altered, bewitched. Now, they add a hint of dirty dishcloth to anything I eat, which is a bit heartbreaking, if I am to be honest [especially for my beloved sushi!]. I never tested positive for covid, but I have my suspicions.)
Thank you again… I too am a huge lover of horse radish which grows abundantly in my garden (a little too abundantly actually if you want some do say!) and wasabi although I’ve never tried growing it! What a disaster you’ve lost the taste for it though… sounds suspiciously like Covid to me, the tests were never infallible… twice I tested negative only to test positive ten days lighter with no symptoms! Hopefully the live of the flavour will return for you!
I will get that story out one day, I’ve started so many times but just haven’t been content… it needs to hold all the magic I felt whilst undergoing the intensive work which is quite hard to portray… at least that’s the way it seems!
I tried some mustard again after this discussion, but it is sadly still dishwater-flavoured. :(
I hope it will return at some point!
I am very much looking forward to the story, which will arrive exactly when it is meant to. It is weird, how sometimes we work so hard on something and it never quite fits, I know that has happened to me, especially with a series of essays on the theme of 'home' (essays which are never quite right, and then I end up stealing lines from here and there instead!). I've been working on one for ten years now, which is ridiculous. I suppose it teaches a lesson in patience, if nothing else!
Thank you Kaitlyn, I’ve said many times here that my aim is to transport people so I really couldn’t be more pleased and delighted when you say that..! 🙏🏽🍃
Thank you so much, it really is a tiny forest, just 800m squared, I have nurtured it for four years and this year the rewilding shows… the wildlife is returning… the feeling of succeeding even on such a small scale fills my heart and soul with joy!
that's very encouraging. And I can totally imagine/feel the feeling. We have converted a piece of sloping land ~ mainly clay and granite ~ into a little jungle/garden/bird paradise over the past 10 years.
Now we're looking at a smallish Eucalyptus plantation across the track, next to our garden, dreaming of converting that into our tiny forest. Unfortunately it doesn't belong to us (yet!)
That sounds heavenly Veronika, a plantation of eucalyptus especially - I spent some time in the Blue Mountains and will never forget the scent of these graceful trees - I’d love a tiny forest here like that… just for the memory..!
Maybe you could acquire the land..? By hook or by crook..? 🤞🏽
Beautiful writing and photo! Love the patch of woodland you discovered. It looks like a patch ripe with fairies and other wildness. XO
Thank you Danielle, it is indeed an enchanted place, the fairies have stayed hidden but I know they’re there, I hear their giggles and twittering from the underworlds… 🧚🏽♂️
Ah that first photo. Absolutely heavenly.
Thank you Susie for taking us on your lyrical wanderings and showing us the unfolding of Spring. xx
Thanks Jo… you’re very welcome - Spring is losing the battle in the temperature stakes this week, there was a heavy frost this morning and forecast for the next five days… I’m all of a sudden relived that I’m so behind in planting up my vegetable garden..!!
One day I’ll find the words I’m looking for to write the story of that woodland… I hope! X
The words will come. xx
Your writing is always so beautiful Susie, I am transported to join you 💛
Now wouldn’t that be just lovely Emily… I’d love a wander on my hill with you to chat to lovely..!🍃xx
Your delightful woodland is a host to countless microcosms that you’ve nurtured and befriended over the years. Such a gift to one’s mind, body and soul!
I’m so glad you know this story already darling… why I can’t get the words out as I’d like I’ve no idea - I guess there is time for everything ! Sending love and light from within the mutterings of the microcosms ♥️xxx
I loved this sentence, how I exhaled into spring and then was yanked right back into winter’s grip. “Winter days escape from wherever it is they tuck themselves away when spring shows up all loud and green and warm, returning to knock, frigid and persistent.” The tension is alive right now as light and dark play tug-of-war. It tickles me ti know that your teenage son leans into the light by eating spring mustard. Does it grow wild there? How does he eat it?! Something awfully adorable about this, almost photographic in my mind, greens falling from his grin.
We have been tugged back and forth on a wave of indecision by dear MN this spring Kimberly, I exhale very time I feel a warm day and take a sharp inhale again as the next sends me searching for logs and woolies. Today is not an exception…
Mustard is grown in vast oceans of waving yellow here, the wild plants I have seen, I have a feeling, are those where seeds have escaped their boundary’s. The mustard monster, aka my boy Seth, who towers above me now at aged 15 physically and mentally has been a mustard addict since he was 3. I wish I could verify your vision, far healthier than the reality, with stories of mustard greens but the truth is, he will pick out the flowers and the leaves from a salad and wait for me to magic the seeds into mustard in a pot, which applies liberally to everything and anything, grinning yes, but more mustard yellow than green!
With love Kimberly, on a Sunday morning chilled in all ways… xxx
Wonderful storytelling, transporting us to small hidden patches of nature echoing with your wonderful descriptions and the sounds of Spring awakening. Love these postcards.
Always I write these with biggest thanks to you for helping generate the idea Barrie, I’d never have time to write anything through these busy spring months otherwise! I’ve been using the new journaling app from Apple on my phone to take notes… is as good as it gets at the moment but I’d be lost (for words) right now without it! Exhausted seems to be the main theme! Anyway, a very big and belated thank you!
So proud of your ability to write at the edges of a wildly busy existence. Bon courage.
Merci infiniment!
Susie! Thank you for the kind words and the recommendation. You turned my head with the introduction to your post, full of mystery and anticipation for your reclaimed forest.
It's a privilege to see my name in a post that also has this: "I am a thief of nature... of a beguiling patch of light and dark that sits at the bottom of our field." (I think you are a *midwife* of nature, but a "thief" makes a good story.) ☺️
You are very welcome, I’m just sorry it’s taken me so long to nip over to your beautiful Quiet Reading… huge apologies for my tardiness Tara.
I still haven’t found the magic in the words I write for the story, almost as if having stolen the woodland, my penance is having the words stolen back… such is this cyclic life!
Thank you for reading, I wish you a beautiful rest of your day’
When you wander about upon your hill, attentive to all this delicate majesty, we readers float along around you, like spirits, waiting to be brought to life by these postcards, so that we too can waft about upon your hill, and revel in all the beauty that you share. Thanks. Now I have owlets in my mind where there were none. What a wonderful thing.
If this is indeed true Jonathan then I can consider my work successful. To transport with words a likeminded soul, a kindred spirit or and even more precious, those that are bound to life by concrete and steel is my infinite wish… I am privileged to live where I do, to be so much a part of a tiny part of this beautiful planet, I feel and see and hear this with my entire knowing and in knowing that others are not I feel a profound responsibility to share… quite simply for the good of them and my conscience. You and others floating, like spirits, by my side as I wander are words that sit well, perfectly even! Thank you.
PS I can actually not think of many things more lovely than owlets to carry in one’s mind for a day! You are welcome.. I am checking daily for more, to continue the transporting…
This was so beautiful and felt good to read, Susie. I love the description of the two old gentlemen oaks. I also love the photo at the top. Always such a wonder how woods are different and the same in different parts of the world.
If ever a tree was a gentleman Deirdre, it’s the oak! I cannot see these marvels of strength and stability in any other light… there are other of course, but the oak is mighty. Even in dying…
Woodland is made of light and dark, the trees may change in the species but that, to me, is all… thank you for being here Deirdre… I hope a week-end of snaps is is in the making!
Beautiful as ever, Susie
Many thanks Lynn.. xx
I do love your postcards, they say so much and hint at more! Can't wait to hear more about the tiny woodland in particular. Now, I'm off to research mustard eating (mustard, horseradish, wasabi etcetera were some of my very favourites, up until some point last year, when they suddenly lost all flavour, before returning altered, bewitched. Now, they add a hint of dirty dishcloth to anything I eat, which is a bit heartbreaking, if I am to be honest [especially for my beloved sushi!]. I never tested positive for covid, but I have my suspicions.)
Thank you again… I too am a huge lover of horse radish which grows abundantly in my garden (a little too abundantly actually if you want some do say!) and wasabi although I’ve never tried growing it! What a disaster you’ve lost the taste for it though… sounds suspiciously like Covid to me, the tests were never infallible… twice I tested negative only to test positive ten days lighter with no symptoms! Hopefully the live of the flavour will return for you!
I will get that story out one day, I’ve started so many times but just haven’t been content… it needs to hold all the magic I felt whilst undergoing the intensive work which is quite hard to portray… at least that’s the way it seems!
I tried some mustard again after this discussion, but it is sadly still dishwater-flavoured. :(
I hope it will return at some point!
I am very much looking forward to the story, which will arrive exactly when it is meant to. It is weird, how sometimes we work so hard on something and it never quite fits, I know that has happened to me, especially with a series of essays on the theme of 'home' (essays which are never quite right, and then I end up stealing lines from here and there instead!). I've been working on one for ten years now, which is ridiculous. I suppose it teaches a lesson in patience, if nothing else!
Also, whenever I read your words I feel like I am not alone, thank you. Truly. 🤍
Thank you Kaitlyn, I’ve said many times here that my aim is to transport people so I really couldn’t be more pleased and delighted when you say that..! 🙏🏽🍃
That you call the oaks gentlemen…🥹🥹
Oh but they are, oaks especially! 😌
Absolutely beautiful. I fully agree, every tiny wild forest deserves the imagining of becoming its magic.
Thank you so much, it really is a tiny forest, just 800m squared, I have nurtured it for four years and this year the rewilding shows… the wildlife is returning… the feeling of succeeding even on such a small scale fills my heart and soul with joy!
that's very encouraging. And I can totally imagine/feel the feeling. We have converted a piece of sloping land ~ mainly clay and granite ~ into a little jungle/garden/bird paradise over the past 10 years.
Now we're looking at a smallish Eucalyptus plantation across the track, next to our garden, dreaming of converting that into our tiny forest. Unfortunately it doesn't belong to us (yet!)
That sounds heavenly Veronika, a plantation of eucalyptus especially - I spent some time in the Blue Mountains and will never forget the scent of these graceful trees - I’d love a tiny forest here like that… just for the memory..!
Maybe you could acquire the land..? By hook or by crook..? 🤞🏽