Obviously I have no photos of the awe-inspiring sunset I saw today (I would have caused an accident, even if I had had my camera on me). These photos are really old ones, that I just stumbled across in my computer. Little moments from the past year or more - the yellow runnunculus flowers are form our garden last year (none this year), while the other two are from at my dad's house, and walking on his land.
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
Last night I made a rather rash statement about posting everyday this week, so here I am, attempting it. So, what to write about. Writing for the sake of writing, for the sake of words themselves or to tell a story as a whole. Or just simply to ramble.
Could I simply write a whole list of words that I like. Words or phrases that sound good to me. That I like to repeat in my head. Could I? Would you be bored? Does it matter?
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This morning I drove to work in the rain. The traffic and the rain. I listened to Syd Straw 'Surprise' on the cd player. I sang. I thought about my dad, who's cd it is. Borrowed from him, along with some Joni. There was an accident round the corner from our house (not very bad one; only tow-trucks), and a very slow L driver in the fast lane. Lots of road work on the way. I was only 2 minutes late for work.
I drove home this afternoon with the traffic. And the red, pink, bruised purple clouds. The golden sun hues bursting through the clouds. The swirls of red cloud, that looked like ink mixing into water. The blue clouds that looked like mountains in the distance.
I thought about all the things I want to do, be achieving. Not in a stressed way, but an excited, anticipated way. You know when you're on the verge of new beginnings in so many things, when new paths are opening and you can see possibilities. When you are approaching the cliff, and deciding to jump - hoping you will fly, but not minding if you tumble and crash to the rocks and waves below. Knowing that someone will rescue you, because family does that sort of thing.
Do you know that feeling? It's been coursing through my veins, blood, body for weeks now. Things (life) slowing it all down. but that's okay.
I'm good at living in my dreams, imaginations, possibilities, wishes.
And when I came home, opening the gate that has a pleasing squeak, hearing the even more pleasant sound of little feet running to the door. Of little hands opening the front door, and a little voice saying 'it is Mama', and then, a little face peeking out. And a big smile beaming at me. Two smiles. And hugging arms, and tumbling words. This is the best part about going out (to work, or for coffee with friends); coming home to the little ones.
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