sweet peas again, in a different light
The second lobster fishing season has begun here in our little seaside village, So this morning through the inky blackness outside my open studio/office windows come the sounds of lobster boats trailing out of the harbour and into the Strait. Lulu's on my lap, Winnie's still in bed, Bleet's been out for ages, outside roaming with the raccoons in darkness and Gussie & Oliver having just had their breakfast and have begun stretching and warming up for their daily, early morning high speed kitten racing, thumping and crashing event.
I'm sipping my coffee, here at my desk, from my favourite big Starbuck's mug, my bath of orange and lemon bubbles with a few drops of patchouli oil (sure to chase the blues away) is pouring. I'm getting a good start, no dilly dallying this morning. One foot in front of the other, another brand new and fresh week spread out in front of me. 20 days left in this month of August, and 20 days to try and turn this around ... to try and see my life in a different light.
I've lost my hope. I really think that's what it is. I've left it outside somewhere in that overgrown jungle of yard and garden of mine, I put it down for a second, distracted by something (my epitaph will say) and walked away. I forgot to paint the handles bright red or orange so that I could find it again in the tall grass. Now I need to hunt for it and I just haven't had the energy to hunt.
awww....hope is not lost...it's just a little mis-placed right now. ;-) Hang in there, Susan. You will find a brighter day..I promise! *hugs*
ReplyDeleteHope
ReplyDeleteHope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
I thought pehaps this Dickinson poem might be of some use to you today. You are in my thoughts.
And Edward's.
Hugs, my dear.
ReplyDeleteThe colours of the sweet peas in this light could be the label of your bath scent today.... all orangey/lemony,patchouli-y..... they're lovely.
ReplyDeleteI seem to be suffering the same affliction, lost hope, and an overwhelming urge to run away and hide (or maybe just not get out of bed.) Both of us can get through this, day to day. Much love and sweet thoughts from the Left Coast.
ReplyDeleteYes, it is out there waiting for you, dear bloggy friend! x o
ReplyDeleteFantastic, gorgeous photo that last one is!
ReplyDeleteFrom my experience, all I can say is that you were created for a purpose and that is found in God, your creator. Ask God to lead you. We're all backing you on this journey.