|A hearty gathering of bird stories and lore.|
When it comes to knitting and books, I always have a few projects/books on the go. I've tried over the years to finish one thing before I begin another, but I do like to drift. Besides, at this point in my life, I don't want to out do, hurry or worry what's good, but I'm not always successful. And I do find certain half-read books need to age, and that gives me time to reflect and consider--to open to the possibilities.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I love hearing about other people's favourite books. A Gift From The Sea is a book that was recommended to me. (Thank you, Penny.) Although the book was written in the 50's, it's still relevant, pithy and near the end prophetic. (But, then, perhaps life for people in different time periods has always moved too fast.)
Moving on... the redundant use of the word one does tend to annoy. But even that is forgiveable because the book flings open the windows and doors and lets in the light. It's, among a myriad of other things, about relationships, community, living in the now, simplicity, seeing and understanding; idleness, meditation and reflection, exploration, growth, balance, spirituality and the wait, and how tuning into nature fuels creativity, and, above all, it points to the importance of taking the time to nurture the soul as we journey. Metaphorically speaking, it's a full catch!
After drifting from there to here, I usually feel renewed: my eyes are open wider, my thoughts run clearer, and if I am lucky, I feel as though I've taken on a little gold. After reading the Gift From The Sea and The Faithful Gardener, I can safely say: mission accomplished.
What's in bloom and what's on the grow...
|Corn on the rise.|
|A stand of birch. Not quite enough for a new canoe.|
A smile to share... The man driving the car with these plates told me that his Dad bought the car in 2004, and that his Dad was the second driver in Canada to own a Smart car.
Yesterday, I read about Google's new car. It's a car without the usual trappings; apparently, you call it and it takes you where you want to go.
"The times they are [certainly] a changin." Dylan