True treasure never fades

A golden chest of memories

A bird sings for Bill

Inside San Diego Zoo, within a cage where birds fly freely, one feathered friend with orange beak
has chosen my brother out of everyone there to sing him a melody.

Does he know that Bill is dying, his spirit caged within a rotting frame?

We laugh to see the bird standing on Bill’s head. Well, not quite because Bill is wearing his familiar cap, so much part of him when out of doors. Under the cap’s brim Bill is laughing with his eyes and with his curling lips. We surely see his whole body laughing even though Bill stands perfectly still.

The bird sings from his makeshift perch and our hearts sing too, Bill is relaxed and happy. It’s not often we see my brother at peace within himself. Many trials and tribulations have befallen this good man — too much pain, too much torment for one man to bear.

This was a moment to remember, a precious ruby picked from a treasure chest of memories of ones we’ve loved but are no more. Beloved parents, brothers, sisters, friends. How well I recall that precious moment when, after a time of intense suffering in a state of paranoid dementia, my mother murmured her last words — ‘Good night Luvvy.’

Not just loved ones live on within that golden chest, but also memories of family, and of things achieved and cherished that dwindle through time to dust. For the world moves as do the seasons — a time to live and a time to die. But within that golden chest each moment, each object, each love never dies as long as memory remains…

Picture — painting inspired by a photograph taken while on a caravan holiday along the Scottish coast.

Blooming Lovely!

I don’t normally put posts on this blog about the garden and photos of the blooms as they come out each season, but the truth is, I am presently unable to get my thoughts together creatively. At present the Silver Birch trees are shimmering in a stiff breeze but later they will be drenched with rain. So too the rest of the garden. We needed this rain as the ground, largely solid with roots, was getting truly dried out. A few days of showers and blooms fill the garden like jewels in a pirate’s treasure chest. For indeed, my plants are my jewels. I have never bought or desired gold and precious stones. I look out at the garden, or walk outside, and I am drenched in the beauty that meets my eyes. Jewels may sparkle but so do raindrops on leaves and petals. My jewels have scent and touch to delight the senses. Their colours gladden the eye. The trees whisper in the breeze and wave a welcome. None of these, my jewels, have to be locked away. They make a home for nesting birds and provide nectar for busy bees. A garden is a welcoming place to lift a weary heart and gives cheer to all who enter. Birds come to feed and provide for their young. Their singing is music to the ear, their presence a never ending joy. A garden whispers peace in a chaotic world

Tree stump covered in clematis - a few weeks and it will be covered in roses!

The frog stands guard!

Brightening the path

Brightening the shadows