the sun came up this morning, turned the air a liquid gold and pearl-tipped each dewy blade of grass. i was listening to the high kings and seeing in my head happy memories of ireland. yes, Ireland. i was really and truly there. and i thought to myself... what a wonderful world.
i also thought to myself... i feel like writing again. in the last few months, so much has happened, beautiful and painful, that i only wanted to be quiet and feel the deep, slow cosmic shift of roots stretching and new flowers budding, another layer of maturity and redemption being added to the person that is me.
i almost decided to give up this blog for good, but you people kept adding yourselves as followers. and commenting. and emailing me questions about things i was thinking and whether i'd write about them... and wondering whether i was going to post pictures of the high school graduation i photographed and the two weddings in which i was fortunate enough to be cast as candid photographer. so, thank you. i'll keep writing, now that words are crowding my head again.
next time, i WILL finish the restorative justice series.
and then will commence a deluge of pictures and stories... and more irish roses (like the darling above).
6 comments:
I was missing your posts and beginning to wonder if you are still putting a link on face book. i understand the quiet part and am glad you're posts are so unforced. please continue writing when you want to write. - Rosanna
I understand dear one. My posts are also infrequent. I do enjoy reading your thoughts though; I hope they continue as long as they can. Blessings!
-Christiana
Hey girl! I'm looking forward to the posts. I'm missing you...we must get together.
I love the new look.
Love, Rosanne
Thanks, you guys! Your sweet feedback gives me energy. :)
I've been missing you too, Rosanne! This living closeby and not seeing each other must be remedied. I'll do some planning and get in touch!
I bet I can guess where that rose was. ;)
I bet you can! Oh, I think if I could pick any place in the world to lie down in my old age and die, it would be your mom's rose garden. Then I would watch their petals fade against the sky and smile at how beautiful this earth was and brace myself for the shock of seeing it refined, renewed and perfected. A bit morbid for thoughts in a rose garden, but I liked them. :)
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