As we approach the end of the year, I am thinking back on this year of 2018, realising that I although I post random thoughts and musings on Facebook I have completely ignored my blog here. My first post of the year ‘ Steady as she goes ‘ was entirely appropriate as a guide for this year ; it has been rocky at times, but I now feel ready to step confidently forwards into my 60’s and plan to write more often here about ‘Mary’s Journey’ .
I won’t promise to write every Monday morning, or every Sunday afternoon, but words and thoughts and intentions are gathering and I may be sharing quite often , we shall see.
I begin again with some thoughts from this afternoon as I gazed out of my window.
Though bereft of berries now
The garden birds still gather
in the branches of the rowan tree.
Now that the snow and blizzards of yesterday have blown through
The day is calm and relatively mild,
(At 5 deg C , I hesitate to say spring like)
My attention is caught by the flurry of activity of the birds
and I step outside to watch.
They flit about
Hither and thither
And then flying off again,
To land elsewhere.
Other birds land
and cling on in the breeze,
Perch, and pause a while,
Surveying the scene below.
A neighbour puts out a bird feeder
Causing such excitement and twittering
Word is out, they call and alert the others.
They gather together and
The tree holds them
Offers support in the stronger and sturdier lower branches
And in the uppermost and more frail,
Which wave around and wobble with the impact of each bird landing
But do not give way.
I am reminded of a village gathering
Or a family group
Whether family by birth or chosen,
And how support is found
As each bird lands and surveys the scene and decides which way to fly next.
And I think about where I personally find support and where I can land in a safe place when I wobble, and feel grateful for those places to pause as I decide which way next
And where and how do I give support to others as they wobble?
Feeling grateful again that I can do so.
We all sway in the branches, in the breeze,
and in the storm,
Singing our individual songs and stories,
Alone and yet