Breathe

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Breathe

White, foamy sea spilling into rock pools.

Seaweed fingers rise and fall.

Sunlight  flickers like fireflies on the sultry sway.

The dark cave beckons but all there is to do is simply

breathe, breathe, breathe.

Life is difficult at times. Worries are carried like a heavy burden on our backs, but how quickly they can dissolve.

A song overheard connects us to a happy memory.

An understanding smile from a friend, no words needed.

The absolute certainty of day and night and the belief that tomorrow will be different.

The image above was one of those moments, holding me in the stillness of a gentle day. 

Along with the seagull observing his world of light on water, we were spellbound for a while.

 

Photo – taken in Dunmore East by Teri Flynn

Dunmore Woods

 

 

13th March 2018

Trees in sunlight

Under a three forked tree, wind blows through the noisy caw of crows.

They seem to own the woods here.

Trees of great height and fallen, filtered sunlight, daffodils and bark littered ground.

 

I want to walk through the woods but I’m on my own and not sure whether to take the risk. What if……..

Sitting on a bench just inside the turnstile gate allows for pause and reflection. Behind me, emerging daffodils grow in circles around palm trees. Beyond the low brick wall overlooking the lower village, there is a clear view of the beach and surrounding cliffs. I watch a small child at the waters edge, she dares the tide to stop at her feet, watching intently as it almost does. Gulls fly swiftly past. A grey container ship moves slowly out to open sea. In between gathering grey clouds, the sun warms my winter-pale face.

Walkers with children enter through the turnstile. There is safety in numbers and so I allow them five minutes or so to go ahead before following at a reasonable distance. Tall trees on either side of the path are aware of my touch on their rough bark. They watch and listen as I acknowledge their presence in my heart. Amongst the decay of fallen trees, hundreds of daffodils, buds not yet evident, line the edges of the path. Clumps of tiny white bell shaped flowers stand proud above the bracken. The music of the woods is tuning up for spring, new life sprung from the old.