Never More To Roam

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For an evening ceremony at Throssel, a lotus carved pumpkin to light the way.

Triple Gem points the way
when I’ve gone astray.
It takes care of us.

Deeper ones who see
ways of helping me.
They take care of us.

Training letting go
meditation flow.
They take care of us.

Now I am coming home
never more to roam.
It takes care of us.

By the late George Barker

This poem was taken from the Throssel Hole Buddhist Abbey Newsletter, just out this morning. George is mentioned. Computer mentor and vacuum cleaner Bodhisattva! I hold him dear in my heart.

Life Quivering

I was just having a still moment looking at the Autumn clad Birch tree across the road. Just one leaf was waving in a slight breeze, its quivering shadow cast on the silver bark trunk. Then a leaf from higher up fell through the branches. The one leaf quivered on. And I moved on to other matters.

I’m not sure why this scene moved me to write about it. Perhaps another instance of not needing to derive meaning, yet still called to record it.

This post is for Linda whose life is quivering, readying to loose from the branch. And for her husband sitting close by.

Amazing (Tiny) Spaces

George Clarke explores the extraordinary world of small builds, where people turn tiny spaces into the most incredible places to live, work and play. He even tries making one of his own.
George Clarke, Amazing Spaces, Chanel 4 TV

It would seem tiny living is catching on. I have not viewed this program which was kindly brought to my attention by Jenny. Those in Britain, and possible elsewhere in the world, will be able to watch the first, in a series of programs, streamed on the Internet. It is 47 mins long and it will be available to watch for a further 27 days.

The next in the series is on Tuesday 30th October at 8.00 pm GMT Chanel 4.

George meets a teacher building a bolt-hole in the Lake District, the community living in shipping containers in Hackney, and an architect who has put his kitchen on the roof of his house.

You can tell I am rather interested in tiny living.

Arresting Moments

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Birch

I had half an hour to wait until the car was ready to pick up after being serviced. So I walked up into the local park and this birch glinted at me in the autumn sun. There are those moments, magical ones really, when something catches the eye, or the mind, or any combination of senses and one is arrested. Arresting moments.

Is there a need to make anything of them past noticing. I think not.

This is for my walking companion, who is getting back on his feet where he belongs! Be well, be happy.

Arriving Home –

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
~~ T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

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Sheepfold by Andy Goldsworthy, one of many.

I was out and about walking near Kirkby Lonsdale on Saturday. Patches of sun, cloudy spells and mud under foot! One of many surprises we encountered were the sheepfolds by Andy Goldsworthy the artist. They were near a village called Casterton. At first I couldn’t understand what they were all about. Why build a stone wall around a large rock? I thought. Then when we heard it was a Andy Goldsworthy piece, or pieces as there were 16 of them beside the path, I was even more wondering what it was all about! But then my walking companion pointed out the small opening for the sheep to get through and take shelter in the enclosure so then I understood they were not just art. The rocks took up about ten sheeps worth of room inside. The space between the rock and the wall would be cosy for a sizable group of woolie friends to shelter against the wild weather of winter.

My sense of Andy Goldsworthy is that he is helping us to revisit our landscape and see it as if for the first time. Just my thought of the moment. The sheepfold project ran from 1996 through 2003 involving the local community in the work.

This note added 26th October: Photographs of the Casterton Fellfoot Drove Folds as well as the full list of all the folds that were restored or rebuilt in Cumbria.