This morning a robin was sitting on the garden fence in full sun staring at me at I opened the door to greet the morning. nothing unusual about this one may think, but we have not had rain for several days the gardens are as dry as dust and robins usually do not show themselves especially at this time of year, do they?

But the robin was a sign or a signal my partner and I shared during the four years we were together, the wreath I had made for his coffin was of a robin. The local florist was surprised as she had never had such a request, it was not the best effort but the symbol was there for all who attended his funeral to witness.

It is 15 years since he died on the 31st May and a robin comes to call every year at this time, when the sadness is potent.

I have never liked to run, but during the last couple of weeks my exercise regime has changed. A member for 16yrs at my health club, always a passionate swimmer and dancer but due to changes at the club I  was not getting the  the satisfaction previously enjoyed and have not been since October 2016, so finally decided to resign.

Have practised yoga for 40yrs and love it but needed cardio work so started to walk with our grehound Ziggy out of our garden gate and up onto what is called the bank, a walk that stretches for several miles in each direction with no houses or vehicles spoiling the view across the farmland to  marshes and finally to the Irish sea. Beautiful, following the eye view I see cows grazing with their calves nearby. Hundreds of birds from tiny sparrows to flying swans, breathtaking!

Second day of walking deciding to try and jog, small steps and short bursts intermittent with fast walking. Feels strange but good. half hour of yoga when I home before a hearty breakfast and refreshing shower.

Third day the same pattern, no breakfast this time, glass of water and quick coffee which sets the pattern for the future, then more jogging and walking to a rhythm, my own rhythm.  Ziggy getting more excited as he flies past me like the wind.

Fourth day the jogging increases as the walking beats faster, using tired muscles, encouraging them to continue. Stretching out with yoga which helps on my return.

Fifth day, muscles do not want to work and big effort needed to make them move, the effort is worthwhile, at last I am beginning to understand the love that runners have for their sport or exercise, the freedom is exhilarating!

The following days continue as before, I have made myself some healing massage oil for tired limbs , the pattern and discipline is now fixed but fluid, walk jogging for 45 minutes, 40 minutes yoga, breakfast shower and massage legs and feet. Amazing feeling of health and well being.

No drive to the health club, trying to find parking space and sign in to get to class on time, find locker etc, then after class waiting for a shower to be free……..the relief and freedom I have now just by walking from the rear garden to the bank with Ziggy is extraordinary rewarding. Seeing vibrant blue of the bluebells, the green velvet of the grass as I walk/run, no sound only birdsong, cows munching, Ziggy’s paws on the ground and his breath as he pounds past, and the occasional person walking their dog, divine!

Enjoyed another amazing night at the opera, Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin, production by the Metropolitan Opera New York. Transported out of this world into a world of such beauty, sound, colour and movement, the voices soaring into my very Soul.

Looking over my posts, I see the preparations for publishing my poems was two years ago! oh dear what happened, still not published. This really is not good enough. Having contacted an illustrator two years ago, who chose three poems to illustrate, I was surprised and disappointed to discover that the illustrator had decided on completion to keep the original pictures. This unfortunately had not been discussed prior to collection. I realise now that this had affected me on a deep level as I just ended up with photocopies of the originals. The artist had never illustrated anything before this commission and I can understand why she wanted to keep the paintings, however it was my work that inspired the art and she agreed with this.

We did not fall out at all and I accepted the copies and paid full price for them, but do not feel the same and now do not want them with the poems.

However short stories will develop around the art and hopefully they will go onto my site or into a slim volume of my work.

Positive action from another experience.

I continue to wonder why some humans are so unpleasant towards each other. Reading a fascinating book about our brain and who are we, gives insight into one’s own brain. The activity happening inside our brain is massive, constant non stop action. I love to stop and watch the self and the self’s behaviour. Defensive, angry, protective, highly sensitive, perfectionist, creative, healer, passionate. Who is this? who creates all these emotions, feelings, who or what drives this vehicle of muscle, bone,cells. Who thinks?

The questions continue, the small voice needs to be listened to. The loud voice wants to be the power centre but sometimes makes mistakes.

Daily observations. Listen to the small voice.

Meditation stills everything, so beautiful to gaze into the tiny snowdrops peeking through the freezing earth. The awesome light of these tiny fragile beauties but their strength is herculean. To push through the harsh dark winters, pressing for the light and blossoming in full glory. To still the mind, stay awhile and watch the stillness and clarity. Breathing slows, calmness settles and we become part of this amazing planet which needs to be worshipped.

I see the moon peeping now from a clear sky which is lit by sparkling stars. Lunar love.

I have just returned from a wonderful evening, The Royal Opera IL Trovatore, what a triumph, the most unforgettable awesome magical evening I could wish for.

Our beautiful Northern country drowning

Rivers raging roaring,

Weeping giants tears sweeping,

Stripping all from human and non human beings

Streams rearing leaping, sacrificial land,

Sacred spaces silently screaming

Earth fields and fells crucified

Seeds of life sleeping.