Wash day

ON A WINDY WASH DAY MORN

Soaked and scrubbed in a round tin tub
with homemade soap
up and down the ribs of a wooden washboard
by hands rubbed red & raw
on a windy wash day morn.

Stiffened with starch, squeezed
and wrung to a twisted laundry rope
then hung on lines to flap
back and forth and snap dry
on a windy wash day morn.

Laid on the lawn like paper cutouts
clean shirts and sheets, towels and skirts
smelling of sun and clouds and wind
wait to be ironed and worn and dirtied
again for another wash day morn.

~ Brenda Seabrooke, American poet and novelist

Some days..

Some days.. you just want to stay home contented

 to be wrapped up by your familiar surroundings.

Some days.. you look around your room with clearer vision and see,

 just how beautiful an ordinary day can be.

Some days.. you decide to quit fighting shadows

 and choose to dance in the light instead.

Some days.. you find illumination on a situation that has perplexed you,

 and suddenly everything seems brighter once again.

Some days are like that...

Old beauty..

Some weeks ago we went for a leisurely drive to enjoy the countryside

and to see what interesting places we might come across on our way.

We love how time moves rather slowly in our part of the world and how local people appreciate holding on to the heritage of their past.

Many lovely old  villages are left standing in pretty much the same state as they were in over a century ago.

The wheels of change are not something that is readily seen or heard around here!

For some people the fact that "progress" seems to be on an endless hold might seem quite depressing - but not to us.

There's a certain charm about quiet old villages that never change or modify!

We  love to find old pioneer homes that have been slowly left to the elements and given over to the weathering effects of dis-use and time.

This homestead we found on a grey and drizzly day was abandoned to a flock of brown and gold sheep, and we spent some magical moments watching the shenanigans of the woolly inhabitants as they scrambled over the porch and under the generous verandahs.

Slowing down to observe the old things and muse about "way back when" is something for reflective hearts and calm minds.

There are so many lessons to be learned by just patiently watching, without the drive to "improve" things all the time in the name of "progress".

Seeing beauty in gently aging buildings helps one value the changes in one's own soul, and is testimony to the fact that youth and perfection inevitably follows the same path as those who've gone before and that growing older is not only natural and right -

it can also be rather beautiful..!

Work..the holiness of "ordinary"

Work in loving service of others is sanctifying.

This small plot of peace

When my mind is overwhelmed by the un-lovely..

when I need to come aside and quieten my heart..

.

when my soul is craving the sound of serenity and birdsong..

I retreat from the din of the clamouring world to sit in my garden.

 Centered beneath the blue expanse above I slowly breathe in.. and out.. 

prayers of thanksgiving for this small plot of peace.