Wednesday, October 28, 2020

Entangled

 


The rains came this week, pelting down, turning the sky into a theatre of lightning and thunder. Until now, although nominally spring, all around us has been dry and parched. Within days of the first fall lush green has appeared, and I am no longer looking the few small spots of gentle restful colour. 

While waiting for the rain, I found a tangle of green, wild and exuberant and unplanned, probably mostly unwanted, along the banks of the dam. 

The vigorous life, intermingled with the dead plants, intrigued me, and I loved how entangled and entwined the plants were, how interesting the shapes and how soothing the muting tones of the vigorous and outreaching weeds were, as darkness fell, 





Saturday, October 17, 2020

She holds the sunlight

She is a third child, a second daughter, and received neither the intensive attention of a firstborn nor the cosseting of the baby of the family. And yet, neglected, she is our sunshine and our sweetness. Fey, dreamy and sweet she is my fellow Hufflepuff.  Her brother is wild, her oldest sister is a fierce diva, her youngest sister is a dinosaur prone to biting and scratching but she - holds the sunlight in her hands. 

Joy is one of her middle names - and she is our quietly wayward, gentle joy. 




Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Light & Dark & Water



Evening by the dam and the air is balmy and the light is tender. The fading light reflects soft and gold from the water and the silhouettes of weeds and grasses become starkly interesting. 

There is a gentleness in the coming dark, a relief from the unrelenting heat and light of the day. Capturing the sharp edged spikes, curves and offshoots of the disregarded plants against the softening tones of light and dark of sky and water brings joy.










 

Of elves and dragons


By chance my youngest happened upon a patch of swamp reed and decided to explore, by chance she had dressed herself in an old elf ballet costume of her oldest sister, so it was chance that had her looking like a small fae child. 

I was delighted. Recent research has led me to reading about the Scottish and Irish stories of the fae. They tended to wear green, to be wild and unearthly, and to appear at the liminal places on the boundaries of wild and tamed. 

My littlest is presently obsessed with dragons, dinosaurs and eggs, and decides that she is searching for dragons. She will tame one, and fly away.  

As she searches through the lush and shadowed green (and o, how beautiful and soothing is the green of the swamp reed) I hold my breath, entranced with the way the last light falls on, as she tells me stories of her adventure and her quest. She is intrepid, imaginative, engrossed in her make believe. 









She reaches the end of the swamp reeds, and finds some springy, low lying green stuff. She picks some, lies in it. Laughs as she and her sisters throw it up and see it fall. She is fierce and joyful, independent, intrepid and stubborn. She holds some of the deeply green leaves out to me, 'For you, mama.'


Tuesday, October 6, 2020

Sunlit Profusion



Summer is on the way - the days are heating up. We are starting to visit the nearby dam for water play - which will become increasingly necessary as the sun begins to bake us. While the land is still dry - a mockery of the green, blossom-scent laden springs of my childhood down south -  the dam at only 12% capacity, the kids still love playing. They swim out to a small islet with (or without a kayak), racing and splashing and enjoying the space, or swim across a deeper expanse of a clay-cliffed inlet. Earlier in the year the presence of blue green algae stopped us from visiting - now the levels are safe to swim being by an expanse of water is always rejuvenating. 

We watch the sun set and the moon rise, and map out the position of the planets. The breeze is balmy, scented with the light, sweet, hay scent of the multitude of different grasses. 

My Beloved attempts to catch fish. I am more successful in capturing the fading light. I love the softened light on the water, the golden glow, and the way the setting sun illuminates all the burnished stalks and seeds. 

There are micro worlds in each small patch - spiders webs, an abundance of seeds, the beginning of new life, beetles, ants. The time it takes to focus the camera encourages me to see the small details - the luxuriant tangle of the ordinary.