Thoughts are flittering, random as I listen to sounds around me. The distant roar of traffic, called white noise, I prefer to think of it as 'ocean waves', the auk, auk, sound of a wood pecker in the trees along the road, and the ever present caw of crows,going on about something, and oh yeah, the occasional train whistle, coming from a distance moving ever closer. What did those first to hear a whistle blow think? Something so loud and foreign to birds in the air or the boisterous thunder? And the proprietors preparing to leave on a trip? All surround me, and the quiet so obvious.
I gaze at the downspouts out my window, full of dried leaves, gardens! The garden in this place shows great care. Gardens, do I dare go there with my thoughts? How life is depicted in the garden...the soil at rest, that is where my soul is and has needed to be.
1 comment:
Carol, this is all to DEEP for me. Sounds like you are enjoying yourself though (I think)...
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