Tags
being alive, Breathe, campanology, creative writing, creativity, escape, inspiration, life, nature, poet, real life, spilled ink, spilled thoughts, spilled words, summer, thoughts, words, Writing
You know it’s been a long, wet, cold winter, when you get a warm Thursday evening. Suddenly, the house has an extra room, no cramped, TV filled noisy space.
I hide. Settled in the garden with a large glass of Pimms and ginger.
The idiotic golden retriever barking at pigeons, as if they are going to fly off with his bones.
The warm breeze barely lifting my loose hair.
Mindful, blissful moment.
Everything is frisky melodic bird song, sweet fragrant wisteria, blue sky, sparse fluffy clouds, weight draining from my shoulders. Sigh….
When suddenly….
The distant sound of church bells, ring out, playfully synchronised, pitch, timing, pattern.
Campanology night, practice peals…
And you remember, ah! Thursday. I’ve missed this and I didn’t even know.
How many such Thursdays have I shared with you here?
Summer past, summer present, summer future, you, dear reader and I.
Listening to the changes.
©️ Juliette Turrell
Juliette Turrell 