EVERY THOUGHT IS FERTILE

This Spring has been glorious in the UK and, as most of us have been at home in lockdown, we’ve able to notice and enjoy it despite the challenges of COVID.

 

The sun has been shining for days on end, causing buds on the trees to break forth in their glorious, fresh, green hues. They’re vibrant, and new, and shining like candy.

 

The hawthorn tree (sacred to Beltane on the 1st May) has burst into tiny white blossoms that have the most subtle yet enticing smell if you stop of partake of their nectar. The wild herbs are equally abundant and growing out of every nook and cranny, begging for attention. Many plants have been plucked and tasted as I have taken my daily walks through the landscape and, of course, I have done nothing but stop to smell the flowers of all shapes and sizes.

 

This week the Swallows have returned to Avebury too. Their playful exuberance is lighting up the skies as they swoop, dive and play over my home.

 

For those who have access to the natural world it’s all so exquisite that it would be easy to slip off into a blissful dream and forget that we are in the middle of a crisis.

 

Or are we?

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COME-UNION

I have this happy memory; a memory from a time in my younger life when there weren’t many things to be happy about.

 

It was a flash of colour. A dance of DNA woven in ribbons. It was coming into a moment of unity amongst a sea of duality. I was about 8 years old.

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