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Thinking

Mud Stories

Low tide on the River Colne lets the mud tell its stories.

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Thinking

The End

I am too much

For you

You are not enough

For me.

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Thinking

Deep Stillness

There’s a deep stillness 

In me 

My own wine 

Dark sea 

A calm storm

My Odyssey.

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Thinking

The First Ten Days.

Of the 366 in 2020. A leap year.

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Looking back, over the views which bridged the reflective new year holiday in Cornwall, before looking forward to what is yet to come.

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Returning to Essex, meant returning to work – two different employers, two different jobs, on three different sites in two different towns.

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I was met by new faces, old faces, all: ‘Happy 2020!’

I step (rather than leap) into a new job in the third week of this month.

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I’m apprehensive and curious; it’s energising. Step forward, 2020.

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Thinking

Mirage

/ˈmɪrɑːʒ,mɪˈrɑːʒ/

Noun: mirage

1. An optical illusion caused by atmospheric conditions

2. An unrealistic hope or wish that cannot be achieved

Origin – early 19th century: from French se mirer ‘be reflected’, from Latin mirare ‘look at’.

(With thanks to the Oxford English Dictionary).

Lately, although I have felt that much appears unreal and that my life is being lived in suspension as I watch my reflection in a waiting game, I know that this time will pass. It will do so quickly enough, to make way for September with her new beginnings and a change of uniform. And I do believe that this year’s colours are going to suit me.

Colchester Town Hall as seen from the garden at The Green Room, North Hill, in the heat haze of late August

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Thinking

All Is Mended

The Shakespeare Window, Southwark Cathedral (photograph © Southwark Cathedral)

Last week, on the last day of July, I said goodbye to a dear friend at her funeral service in Southwark Cathedral.

The site has been a place of Christian worship since c. 606 AD, when the first church was erected there, and the current building became a cathedral upon the creation of the diocese of Southwark in 1905.

Throughout its history, the church has had links with many people of influence, including William Shakespeare. He was a resident of the parish of St Saviour’s (now Southwark Cathedral).  His brother Edmund also lived in the parish, dying there in 1607.  

So, it seemed fitting that one of the three readings at my friend’s funeral should have been written by William Shakespeare. It was delivered by her grand-daughter a short distance from both Edmund’s ledger stone and the Shakespeare Window, the left light of which depicts Puck.

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber’d here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend: 

if you pardon, we will mend:

And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call;

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.

William Shakespeare (c.1595) A Midsummer Night’s Dream – the Epilogue of Puck (V, i. 440-455)

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Thinking

The Journey

‘It is good to have an end to journey towards, but it is the journey that matters in the end.

Ursula K. Le Guin (2000) The Left Hand of Darkness

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Thinking

Jump!

‘When it feels scary to jump, that is exactly when you jump. Otherwise you end up staying in the same place your whole life and that I can’t do.’

J.C. Chandor, Screenplay – A Most Violent Year (2014)

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Thinking

Ace of Hearts

Indicates the visit of a beloved person. A sign of change in the near future which may bring joy, reassurance and warmth. Spiritual strength is needed to face these upcoming events.
On the last day of work before my Easter vacation, I went to check for mail. This was the solitary message, lying in my pigeonhole. It joins the Four of Hearts and the Four of Spades in my hand of chance.

My ace in the hole.

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Thinking

Sunset on a Good Day

Yesterday was a good day. To be clear, I do see most days that way; I can usually find occasion to smile and moments of gratitude. Unusually, yesterday was aware how good it was, too, and reminded me frequently.

Now, it’s almost daylight when I leave the house in the morning, telling me Spring is on the way. As usual, I traveled in to work on the top deck, front seat of the bus, with a good friend. Once on campus, we walked down together towards the lake, surrounded by many trees and few people. Then, he turned right to his office, and I turned left for coffee in the theatre cafe.

Served while I listened to the jazz playing in the background, I took the drink to my office. Since Christmas, I’ve been the only occupant. I like it that way and long may it continue. My day went from classroom to meeting to meeting to classroom with long enough breaks to walk from one venue to the next and no more. No time to waste or get up to any mischief.

For once, I consciously savoured that time, from my morning coffee, through my happy-hungover students, to my supportive colleagues and their great cups of tea. Starting the walk home, the sun was setting and I stopped to photograph those minutes when the sky is fiery and the trees are cutwork against a layered sky. Yesterday was a good day.