The first of the seasonal winds has come – bringing down trees, powerlines, stirring up the dead leaves, and attacking me with allergens.
Strangely though our little house has been a place of calm. Even joy. Chloe made cinnamon star bread for our guests yesterday. We’ve eaten oat bread, blueberries, rhubarb, and so many apples. Family time.
I have been finding it hard to stay focused. Too much to do. It’s hard to know what to prioritise. I’m also just trying to feel at peace with not really doing anything productive for a little while. The garden is in progress. I’m on top of work. Side projects are slowly being mapped out. Everything could stand to be moved along but I don’t want to miss out on these moments. The warming light of the morning sun. Miles laughing at the way the conifers bend left and right in the gusts. Slowly, patiently, doing very little.
I did however recently watch the Andy Goldsworthy documentary “Rivers & Tides” which was lovely. There’s a scene where, on a crisp early morning, Goldsworthy builds a sculpture of icicles that look like they’ve been threaded through a piece of rock on a remote stretch of beach. Once the sculpture’s complete the sun illuminates the ice – something he didn’t plan for or predict. It’s an extraordinary moment which has got me thinking again about creating systems and processes that allow for nature (or some unknown element) to complete or enhance the work.