I had accepted that for the moment I can’t write – nothing publishable at least. It will pass. But snippets, fragments, jottings coalesced without my noticing… into what I would be writing about if I could.
Earlier today I accepted that, for whatever reason, at the moment I can’t write. I have the ideas but not the capacity to create anything from them. I was explaining this in a reply to Margaret at From Pyrenees to Pennines.
Margaret, thankfully, is much more prolific and consistent than I am. Among other posts on her blog, she provides a one-word stimulus every Tuesday here at Ragtag Daily Prompts. She has provided three so far, each one chiming absolutely with things I want to capture. Every week I want to respond – it just doesn’t happen. And I was explaining this to Margaret in a comment on her latest post. Until I realised that without thinking about it, I was writing what’s been eluding me these past weeks. Continue reading “The View from Here: when the words don’t come”
Paula at Book Jotter has recently written about her intention to start a series of posts entitled Three Things… I’m adapting her idea slightly. Continue reading “Five Things on a Friday”
The view from here on this soft and mellow April afternoon has been filled with small and simple joys
We have sunshine. I took a longer walk than usual, striding along the top road with the warm wind in my hair, skylarks singing in the heavens and solitary seagulls hanging at jaunty angles against the clear blue sky. I checked the wires for newcomers. The wires were empty. Soon, I thought.
Soon. Continue reading “The View from Here: on an afternoon in April”
They were displaying all day: soaring on the updrafts above the fields across the valley. But now comes something quite different. Continue reading “The View from Here: Buzzards in March”
… in the space between International Women’s Day and Mothering Sunday
For a week or so, I have been considering drafting a Mother’s Day post. It would have been one of my rambles, perhaps on my role as a mother and as a daughter. But today (I am writing on Thursday March 8th) leaves me wanting to pare down my usual florid style and take a different tack. In the end, I don’t know that I’ve done a lot of paring. But what I want to say matters to me. It stands as it is. Continue reading “The View from Here: thoughts…”
And that moment captured the essence of this year’s Christmas, which for me was all about the very old and the very young.
It is the twenty-fifth of January. This time last month was another 25th. It was Christmas Day. Yes, a distant memory already; we’ve been back in the real world quite long enough to have packed away all thoughts of Christmas with the baubles and the tinsel. When it comes to including Christmas here in A Corner of Cornwall I’m even later than last year, but I do want a record of it and it is just a month back after all. Not so very long ago. But be warned. And if you really can’t stomach the thought a brief foray back into festive realms I can’t blame you. I suggest you move along briskly. Continue reading “The View from Here: Christmas 2017”
In a world of bustle and change there is always stillness
Outside, it has been a mild day: mild but moist. The air scarcely breathes: a stark contrast to yesterday’s winds. But whilst yesterday was wild and spirited, today seems damp and tired. Listless.
As I approached the post box at the top of the hill this morning, I met Peter, our farming neighbour, and his son, Edward. There was clear evidence on the road of their most recent task: the cows had been brought in. Were they coming in for the winter?
Out of sight a cow bellowed mournfully. If she has begun her winter incarceration, it will be many months before she and her sisters are once again on the valley slopes. The view from here will have emptied. Our view is never quite in harmony when the cows have gone. Continue reading “The view from here: a Tuesday in October”