Monday, 15 December 2014


When the frost comes                
it clarifies beauty,
draws attention
to the minute
details of flowers
and vines...

When the frost comes
hair stands on end,
blood tingles
and we feel alive...

When the frost comes
life seems crisper
edges are defined
and those clear
blue skies
bring clarity.

Wednesday, 26 November 2014


Arthur teaches us about manifestation:
  • Get clear on what you desire
  • Open your heart and let it in
  • Stick to it with joyful enthusiasm
  • Trust yourself and others
  • Enjoy the reward


Wednesday, 19 November 2014

Things that Grow in the Damp

Dampness in England is
a slow creep.
Unlike the monsoon
in India
which overwhelms
turns leaves into giants
tricks human matter
into becoming
green furry animals...

The dampness in England
breeds a modest

Mushrooms and fungi.

My crop is humble harvest
of the photographer's lens.

What kind of mushroom or fungi would you choose to be?


Tuesday, 7 October 2014


Changes in my body;
poignant tug and pull of
release and surrender.

Summer gone
and what harvest?
Enough for autumn
Enough to eke out winter
Enough to last out storms.

The sky turns pink;
plucks gold from
shrubs and bushes
Leaves them bare.

We turn inward
Relish whatever
scraps the sun offers.
Enjoy the harvest.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Ripe fruits

 A week in Italy

and what I retain

is the ripening,

the invitation,

the call to life...

A week in Italy

and what I yearn for

is harvest,



A week in Italy

and the humble



will never

be the same.

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Another way to craft your own essence...

I love these words attributed to the revered Indian Yoga guru BKS Iyengar (who has just died at the age of 95):

      "When I still find some parts of my body that I have not found before,
      I tell myself, 'Yes, I am progressing scientifically…I don't stretch my body
      as if it is an object. I do yoga from the self towards the body, not the other
      way around.'"

For me, this is another way to express the notion of crafting your own essence; you work from the inside out.

Wednesday, 13 August 2014


Hurricane Bertha



to the clouds




her mind

more than



the air

Thursday, 12 June 2014


Hummingbirds on Whidbey Island
These little creatures fascinate me.

Is it because we share a love of sweet things?

Is it because they are bright with colour?

Is it the speed of their wings that make all things seem possible?

Wednesday, 28 May 2014

Maya Angelou has left the building...

Now I know why it has been raining… Maya Angelou died today. 

She left the world quietly by all accounts, 
Yet her life made NOISE.

I went to a reading/performance  
At the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley 
More than a decade ago. 

She danced at the podium 
declaimed, sang, laughed 
embodied her art in a vivid 
one-woman show 
that remains 
with me
like the impression of 
a shooting star. 

I loved her that night. 
Wanted that freedom. 
Wanted my words, my passion 
to leak out of me 
the way it leaked out of her.   

She said once, "Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud."  
We will miss you, Maya.

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

At Home With Trees

In the forests of Washington State in the US, I spend time among ancestors and friends - 

the great pines, dripping ferns, gentle deer foraging among broken branches.


                         The trunk of a tree stands
                         like the foot of an elephant,
                    patient while children link hands.


A soft rain nourishes and turns to thunder at the lip of a waterfall,
delicacy moves the heart. 

Sunday, 13 April 2014

Spring in Our Step

Everything is speeding up. Have you felt that? The bluebells have arrived with little warning. One minute, the woods are a riot of green, and the next minute they are filled with the purple blueness of these magnificent flowers. They may not last long. Enjoy them while they are here and do not mourn their loss. This is what I am feeling.

If you need help, pay attention to the lambs. They are natural comedians. They embody zest for life. I pass them daily as I drive to collect dogs for walking, and I always slow down to watch. Lambs give me hope; lambs make me laugh out loud. Lambs remind me to find the spring in my own step.
                     Two heads are better than one
What now?
                            Shoulder to shoulder     
Butts ahoy!

Thursday, 13 March 2014

The Light of Spring

No photos - just the ones inside me. Yesterday, I sat on an upturned log in a small section of woodland. I took time to notice…

Spring is gentle and insistent;
Light softens and penetrates.
Birds announce that harder days are over.

The green shoots of the bluebells are appearing
Flowers will come next month.
The earth sighs and relaxes.

Only now do I feel the tension
The holding on
The dead pause
That has kept me.

Spring will heal what is broken
Breathe new life into tired bones
Give succour.

Wednesday, 26 February 2014

The Dance of Trees

I surprised the trees and caught them in the act of dancing. Sun-touched limbs in graceful play.

With me in the woods, they froze: delightful suspension…like children caught in the act.

When was the last time that I danced?

When is the next time?

The earth smells rich, musty, dredged up by weeks of rain.

These could be fertile times...

What will I seed and grow? 

Sunday, 16 February 2014

Sun's Warmth

How this rain has taught us love;  

Today's visitor had golden fingers

Warm breath that quickened the landscape

 A vision of light.

How this rain has made us notice;

Colour, texture, depth

The boldness of moss.

How this rain has left us hungry

For the simple pleasures

Of sun on skin and needle.

Wednesday, 5 February 2014

Winds of Change

The wind is battering us today - reminding me of change and  movement. Trees and bushes toss and tremble, and my own being feels stirred. Everywhere I walk, there are signs that nature is in renovation mode. Trees are down, branches lie in streams, rivers flood and recede leaving new deposits; the landscape is changing and so are we. 

The wind is a cunning architect. Visible only in her effects, she darts here and there testing the limits of all creation.  Not an easy companion perhaps, but we need her just the same. 

Am I willing to adjust? Am I willing to be flexible? Am I willing to see beauty in each new design? 

Sunday, 5 January 2014

What Will Remain?

Our small island has been lashed with wind and rain for a while now. The ground is sodden, rivers have burst their banks, water finds new channels for its continual movement. 

In the muted colours of our current landscape, I become aware of shapes and outlines, stirrings of wind on water, the criss-cross and blur of reflected branches. In a world where wind and water hold sway, trees topple and seedlings become castaways in emerging lakes and marshes.

Inside us, the new seeds of a new year might feel suspended - unable to take root in this watery world. What will drown or become water-logged? What will leach away as the water recedes? And what will remain, enriched by the spread and mingle of nutrient-rich sediment?