It's an astonishing spring morning here!
Warm and sunny so hubby has got the mower out and set about cutting the grass.
Of course I have to rush out and move before
he can get to the precious little violets, daisies, and cowslips,
and they fall victim to the on-coming blades.
( You can see why I say "grass" and not "lawn",
'cos no self respecting gardener would call our beloved strip
of grass, moss, and bits and pieces a lawn).
It's something I've always done,
this gathering up of the little bits of beauty:
whether it be twigs, feathers, stones, shells,... well you get the drift.
Some find their way into assemblages, or paintings.
A lot just sit in my studio, or around the house
and breath their silent beauty to me.
It's something my poor mother did her best to discourage;
along with the avid reading, and constant drawing.
Such a waste of time when there is always so much to be done.
I will soon be seventy, (oh! unbelievable age).
and still I battle to feel at ease wasting time as I do.
It just may be though, that the world needs time wasters
who can, however ineffectually,
hold on to the precious little moments
and tokens of beauty as they come our way.
If you want to be encouraged to hold on to some beauty by
learning to journal what's meaningful to you go to
dianatrout.blogspot.com
and be inspired.
It got me blogging again - as well as so much else.
Go see!
God Bless
Warm and sunny so hubby has got the mower out and set about cutting the grass.
Of course I have to rush out and move before
he can get to the precious little violets, daisies, and cowslips,
and they fall victim to the on-coming blades.
( You can see why I say "grass" and not "lawn",
'cos no self respecting gardener would call our beloved strip
of grass, moss, and bits and pieces a lawn).
It's something I've always done,
this gathering up of the little bits of beauty:
whether it be twigs, feathers, stones, shells,... well you get the drift.
Some find their way into assemblages, or paintings.
A lot just sit in my studio, or around the house
and breath their silent beauty to me.
It's something my poor mother did her best to discourage;
along with the avid reading, and constant drawing.
Such a waste of time when there is always so much to be done.
I will soon be seventy, (oh! unbelievable age).
and still I battle to feel at ease wasting time as I do.
It just may be though, that the world needs time wasters
who can, however ineffectually,
hold on to the precious little moments
and tokens of beauty as they come our way.
If you want to be encouraged to hold on to some beauty by
learning to journal what's meaningful to you go to
dianatrout.blogspot.com
and be inspired.
It got me blogging again - as well as so much else.
Go see!
God Bless
A beautiful blog and a thoughtful, honest post. Wasting time ... yes, it is difficult to get your mind around it.
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