Poet's Corner - April
Tumbleweeds float unfettered,
down the once busy streets,
the earth breathes a heavy sigh of relief.
Animals return to fill the
space machines roamed,
engines have halted,
so birdsong takes hold.
People are anxious,
bustling lives stalled,
they don’t know how to live
in a quieter world.
Where to from here?
Do we restart the chaotic game,
or can we incorporate some quiet
and make genuine change.
© Gillian Mayne 2020
Country Mouse, City Mouse
I was walking my dog, Bonnie, through the local park the other morning and we went past a stand of large pine trees. My eyes lit up when scattered underneath were some ripe pinecones, dry and open, perfect for winter fires. Growing up in a small rural town and spending a lot (I mean a lot–sorry, ma) of time on my grandparent’s farm came racing back. These small precious gifts from the pine tree were just part and parcel of farm life, as we were sent out in the summer with sacks to gather as many as we could, like little squirrels. Storing up pinecones or chopping firewood for winter was just part of the mindset when living off the land, along with baling hay for animals, or preserving fruit for dessert. So seizing the opportunity, I raced back home to grab a sack and then Bonnie and I returned to fill it up; the pinecones are now stored in the woodshed out the back.
Being a city dweller as a grown-up, I miss these rituals and the accomplishment you feel that you have prepared for winter, or the other seasons. I’ve tried in a small way to do this with some bottling but can’t say I’m 100% successful as it’s a tricky process, in my opinion. So, this winter when I light the fire, I’m going to look at those pinecones and pat myself on the back for being prepared and using nature’s gifts.
Have a great day,
Inspiration for my first book
Got my first tattoo in my 40s, and I didn’t get to pick the design :-(
My inspiration for book one started with a small dot. A simple tattoo that sits in the middle of my chest…it has two matching friends; they live under each armpit.
I’ve never been particularly drawn to getting a tattoo, but after having no choice, I decided to get a fourth, one of my choosing. The small colorful Lotus blossom adorns my inner arm, just below my elbow. It’s discrete, but I know it’s there and it faces me when I look at it…because it’s my tattoo, for me to see.
That small dot gave me the idea for my first piece of writing. What if a character who also has this same dot, tried on a beautifully stunning designer top, but that dot was on display? Drawn to the dot, she wouldn’t see how beautiful she looks in it. So her journey would be to see the top, and not the dot.