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 |    Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
   L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣  L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I L  V COMMENTS!On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara  passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links:  These pictures rotate.   Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
| 2019年5月2日 Show and tell: I pick up a piece of broken tile that I salvaged from the sea. It's worn like me. Beyond it's original usefulness it has no worth. Smooth glazed on one side, smoothed edges, smooth on the underside. How many waves, how many grains of sand have scoured it? Where did I find it? I lost most of what I once had years ago. I now have trinkets given by friends. Most everything I own is second hand. Even my geraniums were rescues. I myself have been rescued more than once. This bitter-sweetness shows at times in my writings. It's not like I could have held onto everything for all time. But I still try to avoid thinking about lost things, lost opportunities, lost relationships. Better to focus on what I'm blessed with now. A piece of tile is such a small insignificant object, but it was the first thing I noticed when I read today's prompt. It will suffice. ACCOMPLISHMENTS: 1. I bought food (scored geitost on sale), 2. bought milk, 3. sat with my friend Merry at lunch. 4. Started work on editing my journal, 5. posted photos from my stay in Jiufen in February. IMAGES: Cold mug, sunshine, multi-colored geraniums in bloom, smell of peanut butter, sound of music from my neighbor (soft not loud). NEW BLOGVILLE: I'm meeting new people! It will take time to learn what we have in common. I do like commenting, so I've made a list and hope to comment as much as possible. I'll get to everyone soon. Tornado Clouds now gather; come to me. Bound to flat land and what can't be forgotten. Bound to dust, dirt and what won't be forgiven. Roar through this city; uproot old trees. Cut these shackles; set me free. © Kåre Enga [176.61] (28.april.2019) 101.491 |
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