Dirt Words & Weed Dreaming

I have been in my garden this morning, beneath clouds which carry the memory of yesterday's rain, the promise of tomorrow's rain, and all the vivacious light of today. It's interesting how kneeling on the earth, twining your hands around wild grass, feeds the words you want to speak.

Soil, I want to say. And weeds and bees and the mystical scent of rosemary. I have so many gardened words today, I would just scatter them all here without the niceness of grammar if I didn't think you would find that too strange.





This afternoon is indoors time, quiet time. One of the benefits of living with an artist is that they understand the need for uninterrupted hours for creating. No guilt, no apologies, just closed doors, and plenty of tea, and music played through headphones, and the air wild with sandalwood incence and dreams. So I'm going now to write bees, weeds, earth-stained hands and eyes the colour of rosemary. I hope you too get what you need for your afternoon.

7 comments:

  1. Such beauty. This makes me yearn for a garden of my own, to grow things, to dig my hands into black earth.

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  2. Gorgeous. Just. Gorgeous. All of it. And "eyes the colour of rosemary". Sigh.

    I ache to be out in my garden, but it's been pouring rain with icy winds, (snow expected too!) I sit inside tonight with tea, and your image above reminds me that I need to tend to my hydrangeas. xx

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  3. Your poetic words are speaking what I feel when I work in my little garden in this time of the year.

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  4. Visiting you is a gift. Today's post is lovely.
    Enjoy your day,
    Lin

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  5. Pretty-pretty photographs. <3

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  6. love your scattering of words
    they are rich like the earth
    i was working in the woods yesterday, raking, digging, placing rocks
    i was amazed at how the hours passed, in what seemed like twenty minutes

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  7. I loved this post. And I like the picture of you in your garden by morning and then tucked inside for an afternoon with tea and music and words drifting around you like autumn leaves while sandalwood scents the air. It fills me with such joy to know you are writing and happy. ♥

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