A short note to my writing group: On seeing this painting, Iona Landscape: Rocks by Samuel J Peploe I could write about visiting Iona 25 years ago; of receiving a book written in the 1800s and passed down to me, from my Scottish Aunt about Iona history; about the fact that my grandmother was a … Continue reading The Conversation (inspired by the painting Iona Landscape: Rocks by Samuel J Peploe)
The Journey
Picnic Excursions and Finding Wool.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAUHDKcIAvc Here is one of my first InShot video/slide shows which I created especially for you to view here on WordPress. It shows some of the landscape where we drove this weekend as well as some of the wool/yarn I saw at Natural Yarns, Imhoffs Gift. This weekend we enjoyed a picnic along the near … Continue reading Picnic Excursions and Finding Wool.
Friday Comfort:
There is a powerful connection between our emptiness and our ability to welcome it. Henri Nouwen. Friday used to be family day in our home but now it is our friendship day. Whatever brings you joy I hope that you will experience those comforts; be it family, friends, or some special ritual that uplifts and … Continue reading Friday Comfort:
Raw Emotional Abrasion.
Poetry Style: 2/4/6/2 Aquarian Yes it's True I feel bad Euthanasia guilt Is real "You didWhat you felt bestThe kindest thing to do"They say Very Little comfort In my reality. Remorse Does not Help bring them back; It's just a fantasy. Feel stuck. You need,ApparentlyTo embrace compassionTo heal. BeforeYou mourn acceptYou did the best you … Continue reading Raw Emotional Abrasion.
How do we say goodbye?
Zoe, our family dog, once Siobhan's dog. 2022 Zoe 2022. Zoe and me cuddles. 2022. I lie beside my canine friend And stare up into the canopy of my private bower Watching butterflies flitter-flutter And birds sounding like squeaky dog toys. Leaves quiver shiver In the hot autumn breeze. I cuddle our family dog Taking … Continue reading How do we say goodbye?
Reflection: Observations about growing older: ears and eyes.
Jasper, Canada, photo by Derek Noffke, 2014 Athabasca Falls, M Noffke, 2014 Being able to see and hear the sights and sounds in my life bring me joy. I am grateful for sight and hearing and don’t ever want to take it for granted. These are senses that most of us are given from birth; … Continue reading Reflection: Observations about growing older: ears and eyes.
Sitting quietly is a gift.
I acknowledge the long unexplained silence As I sit upon my patio Gazing at my foresty-garden: Autumn rains it's leaves in gusts of winds Pitter-patter to the ground In the lull, like the in-breath, a leaf drifts Down to touch the ground Like a little foraging bird. Leaves leaving the branch akin to letting go. … Continue reading Sitting quietly is a gift.
December 2021 check-in
I wonder how you are all doing now that it is almost the end of the year. My blogging ground to a halt when I started the Art of Individuation course which I had hoped to give you some more feedback by now. In the last week of the course our plans for moving crystalized … Continue reading December 2021 check-in
Scottish Thistles and a New Adventure.
https://churchwritinggroup.files.wordpress.com/2021/10/thistle-in-a-field.jpg Thistles in a Field, by Fidelia Bridges Here is another short story for the group of writing friends I belong to, inspired by this painting as a writing prompt. Scottish Thistles and a New Adventure. The Scottish thistle is the symbol of my adventuring journeys as that is where my father came from. My … Continue reading Scottish Thistles and a New Adventure.
We All Have to Wait for Something.
https://churchwritinggroup.files.wordpress.com/2021/09/waiting-anette-swensson-2.jpg Waiting: Anette Swensson Waiting for an answer or diagnosis can be excruciating; especially when the outcome could really be something you are not looking forward to; something that is quite final. It’s a bit like sitting on an empty train station feeling alone and like the next train has been delayed: time hanging heavily … Continue reading We All Have to Wait for Something.
Morag Noffke 
