It was another glorious sunrise this morning and the first one in a few days I’ve been able to appreciate. I felt a twinge of sadness as it faded into the ordinary light of day. I know I’ll never see another quite the same. The golden intense light rippling over dark and troubled water will look different tomorrow and again the day after, and the day that…
Tomorrow it will be a memory, fading and fracturing, the richness of the moment already lost. Today I’m going to make time to stop and appreciate the here and now. I’ll add those snapshots to the mosaics in my memory and enjoy life for what it is – complicated, beautiful and fleeting.
Thanks, Brenda. I think my body may be getting used to wandering around off balance 🙂
I’ve never been a big drinker so having bed-spins is a little novel! My wonderful physio has given me exercises which help before I go to sleep and that’s made a huge difference. A good night’s sleep and the world is always a better place.
What an absolutely gorgeous photo Helene, and once again, beautiful contemplative words from you! I hope you are feeling ok now, vertigo is a dreadful thing, and makes you feel quite ill! Take care 🙂
Very reflective, Sandy. Something called Benign Positional Vertigo is making the world spin in weird and not very wonderful ways… And it’s Mum’s 90th Birthday tomorrow so I’m a little more conscious than usual that life doesn’t wander along without pot-holes.
Good to hear your zucchinis are producing fruit! Nothing like home grown vegies – although all I can manage at the moment is basil 🙂
You’re sounding quite reflective this morning, my dear. But, you know, I can almost smell the salt air and hear the gentle nudge of waves onto a sandy beach.
That’s why I have a garden – I always make time to stop and smell the roses, or the phlox, or the murraya. 🙂 Then I’ll go and get all excited because my zucchini plants are producing fruit.