Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Tasmania. Contrast. Grateful.

Tasmania is beautiful.

And that feeling of being outside of your life, even just for a little while, is so intriguing and lovely, it’s no wonder humanity clings to the promise of the odd holiday, every now and then.

The escape from reality.

The escape from too much of something that none of us can quite put our finger on.

I’m so grateful for the contrasts of life. If it wasn’t for those aching days, moments like this beautiful one (a moment that finds me at a large wooden table, the ocean over my right shoulder) wouldn’t feel quite so extraordinary.

Day two of the Tassie trip.

Perfection.

Grateful.

Photo by Tatiana Syrikova on Pexels.com
Day 14. A life lived with a grateful heart.
Categories
Life

It’s Funny How Life Hits You

It’s funny how life hits you.

Whilst taking a shower earlier, life hit me in a simple, yet profound way.

A sudden wave of gratefulness. For hot water, my goodness, such a simple thing: taken for granted every single day by far too many.

How grateful I felt for that water. How grateful I felt to have access to water, at all.

In that moment, I wished so desperately that those around the world who have never known the beauty of hot water on skin, might know that delicious feeling one day.

It’s funny how life hits you.

Photo by Armin Rimoldi on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Grateful

I’m grateful for beautiful people who shine a light for those wandering the dark.

I’m grateful for those wandering the dark. Grateful they are survivors: that they may not know they have won, yet, but they have. And they will see that shining sun, soon.

I’m grateful for love. No matter what it looks like, no matter how it gets there: it’s love, and it’s beautiful. And I’m grateful.

I’m grateful for all of it.

Joy, pain: all of it.

I’m grateful.

I’m grateful.

Categories
Poetry

Roast Potatoes

It is a long

painful

journey.

But the roast potatoes

are out

of this

world.

Categories
Fable

The Bear

‘You must not fuss,’

said the boy to the bear.

‘This pot may no longer overflow with honey.

But look.

At the pot.

At its rainbow shine,

at its faded inscription.

This pot has been cherished.

And because it has been cherished

it shines,

and it fades

all at the same time.

Who cares if the taste 

of its beautiful

is over.

A memory of life,

enough to feed the two of us,

still lives in your hands.

Let us sit

and eat it together.’

close up photography of honey
Photo by Three-shots on Pexels.com