Daily Sounds

I’m at the back of the house, in my little office looking out on to the back garden. We’ve had  some wild weather- thunder, lightning, strong wind gusts, torrential rain, the lightest, faintest drizzle, little whispers of moisture, sun showers, sunshine, clear skies, dark clouds; so the garden looks dishevelled. Leaves and bits of bark like small landmarks of misadventure. I’ll have to tidy up during the week, straighten the newly crooked, prune some overnight growth, turn over some soil. Plant something fresh.

I can hear the water feature churpling away out the front of the house. It’s become a sound I love. It makes things seem cosier, more settled, more comfortable in an opening sort of way. Perhaps it’s the regularity of it mixed with the irregular; the times when the wind gusts, alters the direction of spray. Chaos in order, order in chaos, the vast potential of change on the smallest scale.

Blackbirds are busy in the garden, sparrows too. Honey eaters squawk and make for the native flowers, bees busy themselves around other flowers, the parlsey that’s going to seed.

Therer’s a lizard that’s made a home in a crevice in the rock wall; every now and then we’ll see its head looking out, or, on sunnier days, the lizard will come out of hiding, stretch out in full.

I feel blessed by these daily sounds and sights, ever-changing, some constant. Happy too, that our dog leaves all other creatures alone. My son says: that’s because she thinks she’s human.

We laugh, then go quiet.

About bydda88

I love poetry, writing, especially writing as healing, as touching the sacred, being touched. And place, places dreaming us, us them. Coasts, rivers, canyons; the ordinary things too, the small things, gestures that reach out.
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One Response to Daily Sounds

  1. Perry says:

    It’s hard to imagine a busy life and wild can be so in harmony, so balanced and yet it is – from within your corner of the world I extract the greatest lessons, blessings in knowing that after all is said and done – this is truly the perfected life – worked at, sculptured into being – your life a living stream – a composite of water sand silt and soil tree roots a door to the haven heart, into life’s soul.

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