Bloodied and Broken. And Still Flying.

 Thursday

You can buy fresh cobnuts in Waitrose for £6.00 a kilo.

I picked these up on the tarmac outside my house this morning.They explode out of the hazel trees  with a loud crack and pop, landing on the ground like little bullets. I have to dodge them when I'm walking up the hill. 

They are free but will require a lot of cracking open  and my nut cracker is still in an unpacked box in the garage.

 Art dog on recent newly thatched  roof of  the farm which owns Black Beauty...

 Solitary pigeon on telegraph wire stretched over the field which was barley and is now a green crop.

A flotilla of crows ...mooring in a harbour of aerials in the village. 

In the town, in the morning, unexpectedly I meet four people I know ....we have big  hugs...

outside the ATM -  in the queue for veggies in the farmers' market  ...on the way to the Apple shop...in the cheese  aisle in Waitrose. The latter is one of my old neighbours ...

"Is it really a year since you moved?"

"Yes, and nearly three years since Robin died".

Three years next month.

It explains the tears  at the  moment which come so unexpectedly, anywhere, anytime.....a little flood..drowning me as I  walk, drive, sit, eat....the anniversary bowling towards me... ..a  loaded tanker on course to the shore.

This evening, after ginormous  bowls of Yasai Noodle Soup at Ty Pye Dong ( laughing and choking on the chilli heat of it) I sit with two dear friends in a cinema watching a live performance screened from The Wyndham's Theatre in London.

 A one woman show...Phoebe Waller-Bridge...actress, writer, comedian...based on her play and TV series Fleabag...... clever and  funny but vulnerable and poignant as well...so you laugh but know it's  coming from all that hurt inside which you can't talk about.

Today Friday 13th 

 I walk into gusty wind  this morning.... the sky is a moving canvas of deep blue and Jackson Pollock clouds.

I don't sit under the oak tree as I usually do...there are several men working on my neighbour's flat roof...disturbing my usual peace and privacy.

The sparkling azure bay of 

Lyme Regis this afternoon.

Robin's aunty treats me to a fabulous early birthday lunch

 at Mark Hix's Fish House. This is the view from our table.

I feel  so treated and grateful....and I love to hear the stories of her life ...and realise at age 91 she's the only person left who knew Robin when he was a little boy.

                           

 Walking home this morning a little black bird is sitting stock still on the path in front of me. I approach very slowly, not getting too close as I don't want to scare her but I can see something is wrong....her beak is open and mucky....I wonder if she is choking ...but suddenly she flies up into the laurel hedge and disappears.....leaving five small black feathers on the path behind her.

When I download the photo later  it makes me cry....she is bloodied and broken.

And still flying.

She is like the world at the moment.

I'm not sure what I'm crying about...the world.... or me.... in pieces.

If you listen to the news "Out there" it's all uncertainly, chaos, fear, death by plastic, destruction of    our planet, loss of decency and morality.

It unhinges me...me in my small bubble of privilege and comfort.... in the face of horror....trying to hold on to the timeless, universal things....things I can do....walking the earth....tending  it...eating right and clean.... nurturing family, friends .....caring for each other ... and myself...

remembering to be grateful...

remembering to be kind....

remembering to share.

Remembering that these things are enough.

And remembering the goodness in the world too. The goodness in people's hearts.

That Grace and Love and Faith overcome everything that is terrible.

This is how Rumi says it.

Be like the sun for grace and mercy.

Be like the night to cover others faults.

Be like running water for generosity.

Be like death for rage and anger.

Be like the earth for modesty.

Appear as you are.

Be as you appear.