I wandered lonely as a cloud...
...
Except... not quite
For all around
Was light and shadows, quiet trees
Sounds from far away,
Concrete buildings, greying paths,
Each detailed in their unique way
Weight on foot, foot on flip-flop, sole on ground beneath,
Every step,
Every breath,
Noticed, piece by piece.
A tiny spider catching breath
The rustle of some litter
An itch, just above my knee,
A scent, a breeze, a flicker.
A thousand things in every second,
Oh, far too much to write.
And all there and any time, any moment,
On any lonely night.
Time to write.
I can't begin to describe the thousand and one stories of what has happened to me this year, I'm writing only because I never regret it.
I'm sitting at home with mum and sheep and dan our lodger and his art. Talking to Lovely Jacob about lambs, and what a poignant illustration they are of the beauty, the impermanence and the inherent suffering of life. They're born, and its miraculous, and they learn to walk and have races in the fields and make you feel like a mummy, but sometimes they die, and theres nothing you can do. Sometimes crows come before you can get to them. Flystrike, abandonment, stillbirth. They come and go so
Leaving the country in about... 68 hours, so Im trying to get some decent Vietnam pics before I go.
If you like them, see similar but much crappier, badly taken, seriously really quite UGLY ones at:
fireandfeathers.deviantart.com
:)
cant believe im really leaving...