Holding The Hand Of My Friend

 This afternoon we follow a trail beside the railway line which runs along the Exe Estuary from Lympstone to Exmouth. The hedgerows are busting out all over with wild flowers - mostly white -  and we are  accompanied by  bicycles whizzing past us and the demented whine of a grass strimmer, its petrol fumes filling my nostrils.

I'm fascinated by the unfolding life cycle of this  Wild Carrot flower,

from tender green...

to white tinged with pink...

to full blown lace.....

and at it's heart this signature tiny red floret which distinguishes it from Cow Parsley.

I'm shocked to see ripe blackberries already in July - it feels much too soon - the apples are still green  .....I associate both of  them with autumn, with September. My husband loves them and keeps picking them and feeding me the best ones but every one is lip-puckeringly sour.

I never think of convolvulous as a weed.....

wild white hollyhocks.....

and teasles reaching into the sky.

This  look-alike jasmine flower against a blue painted wall makes me think of holidays in Greece...

thistle fluff....soft as pussy cat fur.....

I don't know what this dense beauty is....

 and can't remember the name of this yellow one crowding the railway line...

framing a church spire in Exmouth in the distance.....where we turn round.....

 as the sky fills with cloud, and follow the path back towards Lympstone.

This morning I sit in a cool attic room with my Family Constellations Counsellor and she guides me through a process with my eyes closed and my heart pounding as I find myself at two years old again....holding the hand of an African friend.... my heels teetering on the edge of  a steep-sided, red earthed chasm, plunging into deep darkness....I know it's there.... I can feel it behind me but my companion is not aware of it. I feel afraid.....  tight steel bands constricting my heart so it's hard to breathe....

Then my counsellor says,

What happens if you turn around and look?

 Still holding the hand of my friend I turn.....and  immediately both of us, my counsellor and I, burst out laughing. 

And we laugh and laugh and I tell her what I can see is a shallow muddy puddle in front of me -  not an abyss at all -  and I jump in there with my small bare feet...... and feel only the happiness of splashing in the water ....... playing with a free and open heart....... in the centre of my wide lace world...still holding the hand of my friend.