caring

spent sometime caring for the plants. felt peaceful afterward.

today's gathering

it was sunny and cold
under the songs of birds and the softly wind's melody

camomile

in the fields today ...

fragments of today

today the temperatures dropped considerably and the sky stayed blank and grey for most of the day. I wrapped myself up in layers of warmth and a persisting headache and faced the blistering northerly wind venturing out searching for myself in the back streets of town, in what remains. searching for that light, the wide open skies. as I walked I longed to capture as much as possible of my surroundings, getting hold of my memories before they are lost and gone. I walked in silence except for my words, rusty with time, forming in my head. up above me storks carry long twigs in their beaks working hard to build their nests. it is time for a new start and they are graceful in their flight. the few remaining orange trees are heavy with fruit dropped to the ground, still beautiful as always. then, in those other days, every house had at least, either an orange or a lemon tree in the yard. low, modest whitewashed houses they were! I made plans to search for each piece, collect in every corner those, almost forgotten moments and build a map of what I was.

I gathered many bits from the ground, hands frozen, happy face! brought them home, placed them on the windowsill in disorder and made myself a nice, comforting cup of milky tea. no sugar, please!

sunny day

today it was a lovely almost spring like day. I ran errands, I continued to unpack and put things away and enjoyed the warm sun that made me sleepy after lunch, resting my head in my dreams.
I got this potted ranunculus last week to brighten up these past few winter, rainy days. it was the first time I got one of these. I just love to see the tiny buds opening up into this vivid burnt orange. such a happy colour!

pombinha

in here even bread has the shape of birds ... pombinha means "little dove" in portuguese and this is a slightly sweet soft bread I used to have as a child.

winter still

this morning while walking the dog. searching for some colour on a grey day ...
there were also blackbirds but they flew away as I approached.

slowly

slowly adjusting to new surroundings ... rediscovering a new pace of life. my own.
feeling quiet. taking pleasure in my own silence. observing the signs of early spring. breathing.

cat's weather

today it rained and rained ... the pets are settling well!

the sound of the sea

today while arranging things in their new places I opened this large jar ... the room was instantly filled with the scent and the sound of the sea. I will miss the sea!

silhouette

last night when I arrived home the house was silent almost pitch black. as I walked in I found a silhouette projected on the white corridor wall. coming from the room, a window, a bottle and some dried flowers simply printed by the street light, just like a painting hanging on the wall. I had to smile!
click on image for detail

my herbarium

I don't think I have ever shown my herbarium. there are two books full of plants and weeds collected a couple of years ago. click on images for detail.

the birds

today I followed them, I captured them, I flew with them ... yes, I still remember the birds and the swooshing sound they make as they hurriedly pass above me, the sound of the wind that isn't there!
while watching them I spotted the first swallows ...

february

february starts with arms full of warm nostalgia. I feel safe, I feel back home inside!
one of my hyacinths has flourished and looking down I watch the birds in the lemon trees. the silence in the mornings, the old roads my steps know so well. the traces I left in them like written parts of a diary. I open it and flick through the pages! the old houses still standing and I can almost listen to the voices whispering in my memories.
today I spent sometime following a flock of birds in the blank sky ... in slow motion! and listened

voices heard in fields of green
their joy their calm and luxury
are lost within the wanderings of my mind
i'm cutting branches from the trees
shaped by years of memories
to exorcise their ghosts from inside of me
the sound of waves in a pool of water
i'm drowning in my nostalgia
david sylvian . nostalgia . brilliant trees . 1984 

note to myself ... clean windows after unpacking all those piles of boxes