My 'holy moment' breakfast was almost holy this morning ...
I have my ground coffee, and my little espresso machine is making me so happy.
I had a bagel, as introduced to me by Kim back when I lived with her and Andy in Farnham, and apricot jam (I can't find peach in NZ), and good butter ...
I have this little $29nz speaker that improves the sound quality of Jack Savoretti, Coldplay, Paolo Nutini and the rest of my playlist on my laptop.
The kitchen door is open because it's Saturday, and the blokes removing abestos at the school next door are at their homes.
The sun is intense already, the sky is blue, and I have nothing and nowhere I have to do or be.
This is where I've been reading in the evenings. Trying not to drink red wine but, you know ... sometimes :-)
I loved photographing these guys.
So happy after their marriage …
I gifted them a cd full of the photographs I took of them.
7.30am, and I roared up to the supermarket. Dad had run out of tomatoes, and he absolutely requires them, on toast, as part of his morning routine.
Mmmm, the supermarket doesn't open until 8am.
I wandered along to the main street cafe I used, pre-coffee machine and sat there a while, reading.
I was the 3rd one in those supermarket doors this morning ...
I’m listening to Jack's latest song, and really liking it..
The foto: I was talking to Dad, in the lounge, after a rainsoaked Sunday and noticed the sun glistening outside on the flowers. I had to, at least, attempt capturing something of the beauty …
Slowly, slowly, I’ve been winning this timid boy cat over …
Tonight, he was sitting there in the sun, on the couch. I saw the photograph of him, about the same time he saw me quietly lift the camera.
I had a split second, maybe 2, then he was gone.
I have since had to apologise to Mark, profusely …
In that first hardly noticed moment in which you wake,
coming back to this life from the other
more secret, moveable and frighteningly honest world
where everything began,
there is a small opening into the new day
which closes the moment you begin your plans.
What you can plan is too small for you to live.
What you can live wholeheartedly will make plans enough
for the vitality hidden in your sleep.
To be human is to become visible
while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others.
To remember the other world in this world
is to live in your true inheritance.
You are not a troubled guest on this earth,
you are not an accident amidst other accidents
you were invited from another and greater night
than the one from which you have just emerged.
Now, looking through the slanting light of the morning window
toward the mountain presence of everything that can be
what urgency calls you to your one love?
What shape waits in the seed of you
to grow and spread its branches
against a future sky?
Is it waiting in the fertile sea?
In the trees beyond the house?
In the life you can imagine for yourself?
In the open and lovely white page on the writing desk?