Tag Archives: herbs

Field of dreams..?

Long, long ago, when the world was still young and I was younger still, I moved into a house with a garden. It wasn’t much of a garden, long-deserted, overgrown and gone to seed, but my mind painted it in … Continue reading

Posted in flowers, Memories, nature, Photography, Spirituality, The Silent Eye | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Between the cracks

I wandered out into the early morning garden, clad in sandals and dressing gown, in search of The Ball. The dog had hidden the darned thing again and stood at the door grinning, while I did what I was expected … Continue reading

Posted in Photography, Spirituality, The Silent Eye | Tagged , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Who We Were ~ Sascha Darlington #writephoto

We grew up playing in fields, climbing stones, splashing through creeks and turning over rocks to find salamanders and crayfish. We knew what birds flew overhead, what cry that was in the night, when to plant corn so the seeds … Continue reading

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Some like it hot…

I like to cook and although I don’t really cook for myself, I do cook for my eldest son every day. He likes good food and is open to experimentation…which means that I get to play with ingredients I would … Continue reading

Posted in food | Tagged , , , , | 55 Comments

The Sixth Night…

Draumas Mægðe Dreams wake to fear, eternal night wraps icy fingers around the heart. Summoned by need the soul slips quietly into the shadows that veil it from itself. Ragged wisps of affection drift and fall as he moves across … Continue reading

Posted in Books, Don and Wen, Stuart France and Sue Vincent | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

The ninth night…

Draumas Stune A final night he hangs from the Tree, a final night his own spear holds him. What dreams will come… what changes they will bring? He fears the night. He has hung here forever, bleeding yet content in … Continue reading

Posted in Books, Don and Wen, fiction | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Elements

Starchild in Glastonbury is one of the few shops where I can spent unlimited time and wish for an unlimited budget. You walk through the door … a work of art in itself…into a low-ceilinged space lined with polished wood … Continue reading

Posted in Art, Avalon, Photography, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 14 Comments