Beauty at the beach.
“Oh, how lovely!” she sighed, breathing deeply, letting the smells of salt and seaweed soothe her lungs. The beauty at the beach she could see was all for her! She stretched out her arms, pale after the winter, and lifted them high as, into the sky she cast her gaze, grateful for the white clouds that scudded overhead. The seagulls screamed as their wings clipped the ocean spray and far over there, interrupting the smudged brown horizon, sandstone hills and cliffs housed nesting colonies of razorbills, gannets, cormorants, puffins, and predatory, snatching, arctic skuas.
From force of habit, she examined the curve of the waves as they came in to crash at the shore, as sinuous as living snakes, as determined as the pulse of a heart. Beneath her feet, where her shoes squelched in the hard, rough sand, the water puddled, forced by her weight to pool in her footprints. And everywhere, beneath the crowded cacophony of birds, waves and wind, there were the musical high-notes of draining sand, pulsing sound from each minute shell and holed-out fragment of rock.
Pulling in her gaze, as she always did after a while gazing, Lizzie bent to examine the shoreline for interesting shells, for shards of colour, for flat spirals of splintering white, or round curled coronets. Here and there her eyes picked out a deeper blue, a flash of bright purple or a slick of purest orange, and automatically, her hand would reach, collect and cradle each find. Soon, she had a collection of about ten specimens, all different shades of pink, yellow, red, brown, orange or blue and purple. Each, she caressed and examined minutely, turning them over in her fingers, brushing out the sand, promising to love and savour them carefully.
Many times, this is what she had done, and she knew, her promises were lies. None of the colour would hold, unless it was trapped in a water-filled glass jar and left to sit on a window sill, ever so slightly in the way, the screwed-down top gathering surface scum. None of that brightness would transport to the ledge in the bathroom, where dust motes would dance, but the collected water would be still. So Lizzie blessed them and let them loose. She threw them high in the air, and watched as each beautiful mote sank beneath the waves.
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January 12, 2015
Just Eat a Peach
Fran Macilvey change, choices, freedom, hope, learning Path To Publication, The Rights & Wrongs of Writing 7 Comments
I have ideas for a book, provisionally entitled, ‘Just Eat a Peach’. Here is a tentative first chapter or introduction. Comments most welcome.
Personal observations suggest that changing personal habits can take anything from between six months and a lifetime. More optimistically, I would say that where there is no pressing urgency, altering personal routines and habits can be expected, to take between six months and two years.
I can’t manage comprehensive self-sufficiency. Now does this text intend, in its scope and depth, to answer every DIY question from “How do I slaughter a pig?” to “What about Greenhouse gases?” On the contrary, it is based firmly within the realms of my own experience and observations of what works and what may be a waste of time.
Where should we start? There is so much to consider, and potentially every area of our lives can be re-examined. For the purposes of this exercise it helps us enormously to make a start with something, when we remember that we are responsible for our personal circumstances and understand that there are excellent reasons to embrace change. I wish to send out a rallying cry, to empower us to act, to do something, no matter how small, to make a difference. While many citizens charged with aspects of decision-making seem to spend their time in power struggles concerned with budgets, targets, strategies, spheres of influence and planning, we foot soldiers can set to work with our gloves off – or on, if you happen to be washing dishes or gardening.
Seriously, do we want to wait until we have to choose between washing the dishes, or washing our hair? Do we really expect to ‘have it all’ indefinitely? If the Kyoto Protocol and Doha amendments being negotiated mean anything, they signal that we will have to make such choices. Does it not make sense to start examining our habits now, so that the pains we have to go through are less agonizing?
Taking time to choose, then reflect, adapt and accept or reject our choices, is how we eventually achieve permanent shifts in our habits. Much of what I suggest may not work out for you; and since I started writing, various problems have surfaced which make certain apparently ‘eco-friendly’ choices unworkable for me. Unless we have tried and tested something over a period, the chances are, it won’t endure, and may end up costing us more time, energy, resources and goodwill than we can readily afford.
But time is one commodity we seem to be running short of, unfortunately. And certain themes keep coming back to me. On the one hand, there is some reassuring evidence that I am on the right track; and on the other hand, I am reminded of the urgent need make a real commitment to change, to self-empowerment and improvement in my circumstances, regardless of my income bracket or job prospects. That urgency is galvanising. I don’t know about you, but, I want to make a difference. I don’t want to rely on others to come up with magical solutions at the last minute.
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