Time on my hands


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Yesterday I had an hour between work appointments.  I had taken a notebook and markers with me and had a good book in the car if I felt like reading.  All I needed was a place to stop.


I hate doubling back on myself when I’m out, and short of stopping on the side of the road my only option was a cemetery.  I pulled in and wound my way down the curving road, parking near a tall pyramid cairn of rocks.


I was the only one there.  The only LIVING one there I should say.  It’s a beautiful place, nestled on a gentle slope that goes down to the river.  On one side is a little inlet full of reeds and birds, on the other the land rises slightly, rocky and treed.  It had been misting rain but I decided to take my camera and go for a walk.

cemetery view

I was here before, years ago and took a picture of a grave with a carving of Jesus on the cross so worn you could barely tell what it was.  It was beautiful, not for it’s content but for the fact of the way it showed the passage of time and weather.  For all the seasons it had stood through, hot sultry summers and ice blasted winters.  I wondered if I could spot it again and see how the last few years had changed its appearance.

Instead of finding my quarry I was distracted by lambs.  The tiny stone kind that mark the graves of babies and children.  Souls that never had the opportunity of life.  I took a picture of one and then another and soon found myself on a quest to see how many I could find.  Each one, like the Jesus stone, worn by the elements, it was hard to tell that some were even lambs.  Each one marking the hardship and pain of life and death all those years ago.


It was a peaceful walk with time to ponder things.  This place, on one hand so full of death but on the other teeming with life.  The trees, grass, clovers, moss, lichens all spreading out, growing and gaining ground.  Birdsong from the trees rang out in the still air, letting me know I was still in the real world.


On the way in I had read the sign that said this was a Protestant cemetery, dating back to 1860 — new for many parts of the world but old for Canada.  I felt a sadness that death needs to separate people into the right cemetery.  That religion pulls us apart right to the end and that act is as much for those who remain as those who have passed.


I don’t believe religion separates us after death,  I don’t believe any of us have the full story, only bits of it.  I’ve never felt comfortable with the dogma of any mainstream, organised religion.  Many seem to serve to divide and conquer instead of bringing us together.


I sometimes wonder if the ‘tower of Babel’ was not a fracturing of man by language, but a fracturing of man by the language of religion.  I imagine a tower with many windows looking out to the truth.  Each one shows only a tiny part of the view outside.  People standing at the windows may see similar things, some see another very different view.  The point is that everyone thinks they are right, and they are.  Everyone thinks the others are wrong, but they are not.

How much better the world would be if we would stop and ask what the other sees instead of condemning it because it’s not the view from our window.  If we learned with compassion instead of putting up walls and blocking the views that aren’t our own.


Hmmm.. I had no idea this post was going in this direction when I started.  I better stop before I get myself in trouble!

Today I try and look at others with open eyes, with less judgement and prejudice.  Today I try and look at others and know that they are following their life path the best they can, that I do not know their past or what hurdles they have overcome, or what trials they may be living with.  Today I see that we are all part of the divine in our own myriad ways.

Leaving the Nest


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Several weeks back I spotted two wrens in our garden.  They were busily collecting twigs and making trips back and forth to a little birdhouse in a lilac bush.

DSC_0017aThey were so busy, I sat and watched them for a long while, coming an going and felt excitement rising at the thought of nesting birds in our garden.

DSC_0011aI don’t know when eggs were laid or hatched, but the morning of the Summer Solstice I was in the garden at sunrise and this is what I saw.

I looked up above my head and saw the wispy morning mist clouds turning that same wonderful shade all the way across the sky.

I heard the two nesting wrens singing to each other and looked towards their song in time to see them silhouetted on a branch against that glorious orangepink. For a moment they were beak to beak in the solstice sunrise. Then one flew off and I heard for the first time, as she entered the nest the beautiful sound of hungry new life.

It was an inspiring way to begin the longest day of the year.

Since then we’ve noticed constant activity as the parents busily keep their babies fed.  The loud song and communication of the parent birds has been a constant in garden as well as the sweet quiet cries of the babies.


Yesterday I went into the garden and all was quiet, no parents flying round, no sound from the nest – the babies had flown!

It was both a very happy thing and also sad to think the little nest was empty and their songs were gone.  We had missed all the excitement the day before.

I went into the garden several times yesterday hoping for a sign, but nothing.  All was quiet and still.

Later in the day I wandered out again just on chance and heard one of the parents!  They were still close by!

I feel very blessed to have spied one of the babies being coached by a parent – I’m not sure if it had actually got the hang of flying yet as it was sitting in a brush pile.



We looked at each other for a moment and then I backed away, not wanting to upset parent or baby.DSC_0006a

If you look carefully you can see a couple of little tufts of baby fluff still clinging.


Perhaps Nature was giving me a sign, a metaphor – ‘you’ve left the nest – now spread your wings and learn to fly’



What a Wonderful World


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This morning I am sitting with my tea, looking out over the garden. It’s quietly muffled by a morning mist that is hanging in the air. Everything is wet with yesterday’s last rainfall. One of the nesting wrens is searching for bugs on a branch just outside the window.


Nature isn’t consumed with who is who, and what do they have and why are they better than me? Why are we?

Nature appears to go about it’s business with an understanding that life is about creating and growing and being the best and most beautiful it can.


Seems to me that nature is pretty smart.

Life IS about creating, that is what life IS – creation and creating!

I wonder how the world would be different if each of us looked within and understood how utterly unique we are. If each of us began singing our own song like the birds at dawn chorus.

How would the world change if instead of focussing on what we don’t have and which shop can we get it at and how much is that please? If instead of that we all just stopped and rejoiced at being ourselves.


I can’t help but believe it would be a much better place, kinder and less full of inequality.

I assume I am like most people, riddled with self doubt and afraid of failing.  I am learning slowly that life isn’t about passing or failing – life is about living in a way that lets you shine.  Each of us are totally amazing, one of a kind beings.  No one else on earth can do what I do or what you do in exactly that same way, we each have our own song to sing – our little part to add to the symphony.

By letting fear and doubt silence us we are depriving ourselves and others of a very beautiful thing.


The Mystery Caravan


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The Mystery Caravan

Yesterday a caravan pulled into my life. A cozy magical spot filled with dreams and creativity.

It’s nestled in a field close to a Greenwood with the
Sea just a heartbeat away. The caravan is green with a red roof and will be anything I want it to be.

How exciting! I wonder will it stay a while? Will it become a permanent fixture in my life? Or will it disappear as easily as it came?

I’m going to have fun exploring it.

Stepping Off The Road



All of my life I have pretty much walked the main road.


Do you know the one I mean?  Daughter, Mother, Wife, Housekeeper, Worker – never straying too far to the left or the right for fear I might fall into something messy in the gutter. Not to say that any of these things is bad, they are all fulfilling in their own way and have brought much joy to my life. However, notice that sign up there in that photo? It is time to pay attention to some other parts of my life that the Main Road has taken me away from. Time to take a step away from that centre line.

I feel like that’s what I’m about to do, or maybe I have already begun the process, my right foot wavering – mid-air, unsure where it’s going to land.

Lately little pathways keep offering themselves up to me, unpaved, lined with moss covered stones, ancient gnarled trees of the most friendly kind, lush green lanes filled with voices whispering ‘Come away! Come dance with us down the lane and into the treasure that lies beyond’.


Now, on the Main Road little voices can be a bad thing, a hint of madness or outright anarchy, but I’ve been walking closer to the side of the Main Road for several months now and the voices don’t scare me, they are friendly and full of promise.

I sense adventure in the air and a coming home to the person I’ve been away from. Come dance with me down this path if you’d like – I’m sure it’s going to be full of surprises and new friends.

Exciting New Location for My Beads


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I am thrilled, excited and delighted to share that my Goddess beads are going to be available for purchase at the Glastonbury Goddess Temple Gift Shop in yes, you guessed it, Glastonbury, England!

Not only is this part of England near and very dear to my heart, but I have also recently been doing a lot of dreaming about it.  When sleep is elusive at night I take myself to the top of the Tor (in my mind) and breath in the beauty of the landscape below and the mystery of the space.

Imagine my surprise and delight then, when an email came out of the blue enquiring if I would be willing to put some of my beads in the Goddess Temple Gift Shop!  Oh MY!

My first selection of beads are on their way there as I write.


If you happen to be in the area and would like to visit the Goddess Temple, here they are, you’ll find them at – The Courtyard, 2-4 High Street, Glastonbury, Somerset.

I can’t help feeling like this is one mossy stepping stone full of magic and wonder on my journey of delight!

A little background information


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DSC_0070aA background can make a break an image.  For the longest time I’ve been taking photos of my glass Goddess beads on a white background – dumb eh?  Today I just happened to place one on a slice of wood and wow!  What a difference, I love how the colours in the wood really make the beads pop.

DSC_0072a DSC_0059aEach of these beads are handmade by melting glass, no two are exactly alike.  If you are interested and would like to see more you can visit my website here and my Etsy shop here