Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Small and Wonderful Things . . .
"The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But who gets excited by a mere penny?...It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won't stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted with pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. what you see is what you get." ~Anne Dillard
A few of the small and wonderful things which bring untold joy into my life. It's the small things in life which truly mean the most. Simple abundance . . . it's the best.
Sweet Peas. I adore them. Each little petal looks as if it is a butterfly wing waiting to take flight. I beg them to stay, please stay . . . I promise not to pick them if they do . . . they relent and stay where they are, but I cannot keep my promise, the allure of their scent is far too strong. Just a small bouquet and the whole room is filled with it. How very wonderful . . .
The little creatures that live up and down the hedgerow which borders our back garden. They may only be sparrows for the most part, but no less delightful than were they any other kind of bird. In the morning I look out as the day is dawning and already they have begun to sing . . . little heads popping out and up all along the hedgerow as if to test the waters . . . once the all clear sounds, they are out and about. The day has begun in earnest . . .
"If I'd been born a Whittier, instead of what I am,
I'd write a poem now about a piece of bread and jam."
Can there be any finer supper in the land than a simple piece of bread and jam? I think not. I eat it in little nibbles all around the outside of my piece of bread, working my way around and around, getting every close to that final tiny morsel in the centre, which is the most delicious of all . . . I have saved the best for last.
Nothing on earth delights the senses more than a bed made up of fresh sheets which have just been hung outside on a wash line to dry . . . they smell of earth and grass and sunshine. It is, I think . . . a little glimpse of paradise, and you are laying in it.
A paper sac filled with cherries. Red, warm and sweet. You say you'll eat just one, but before you know it . . . the sac is filled with nothing but pips and your lips and fingers are stained with sweet juices . . .
You should have bought two sacs . . .
I saw this and it made me smile. It's the back of an old wind up clock, but it looks so sad . . . probably because it is one of the last of its kind . . .
I miss wind up clocks.
A thought to carry with you through today . . .
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⋯ ◯ ⋯¨♥♥♥
The fact that I can plant a seed
and it becomes a flower,
share a bit of knowledge
and it becomes another's,
smile at someone and receive a smile in return,
are to me continual spiritual exercises.
Cooking in The English Kitchen today . . . a Roasted Beetroot and Goat's Cheese Salad, with a marmalade vinaigrette.
Enjoy your Wednesday and all the small and wonderful things it brings!