Ribbons of Gray

Drops of rain from the edge of the roof hitting a small puddle below, beats out a steady tune. This day is almost magical and that's not a word I use lightly or often, but it is magical. Something is different today, as if the whole earth is speaking a previously unknown language to me. I understand today these old words that the earth is breathing.
The sky, holds me mesmerized. I find myself turning in circles to get the full view. Childlike, but with not a care of how it looks to a passerby as I stand on a local hillside.Its hard to describe the beauty of the clouds, its left me speechless. As if I have seen a beauty that has been unseen in all the centuries before.
Layers of gray, drawn out in some places,. curled and gnarled in others. Dips and valleys of grayness.
Fine sheer curtains of rain seen falling in another direction, the rain falling in a slant looking as though this veil of gray silk was being blown about by the silent wind. I don't seem to notice that rain is falling on me.
The air cool and dampness seeping into the very core of my being. My imagination flies. I see iron age round houses on a hillside in Wales. Smoke curling out the opening in the pointed roof. Brightly painted Celtic knots on the walls, me inside weaving earth dyed wools while a stew hangs over the open fire. I dream daydreams of another time.
The sky has never looked so alive and captivating to me. Well yes, one other time, late in the night, a full moon with clouds flying across the blackness, that was the only other time I have been so held in awe.
After taking about 50 pictures and discovering that no camera could catch this moment in time as the beauty has to be seen with the eye and the spirit it seems. I lit some incense, exotic smells fill the dimly lit room, music plays on the stereo, old songs...Irish harp with ancient Gaelic words, hanging in the air as if they understood this moment in time, this almost mythical time. I don't want this to end, its such a perfect blend of awakening of all the senses.
Ribbons of Gray, stretched out before me, stretching my imagination. So much better than watching television or going to a movie. This is real.
Simple beauty all around, providing simple pleasure.

The green of the trees so vibrant in the rain filled gray sky.

Gray clouds, their beauty lost in the camera lens.

Comments

Anonymous said…
You certainly have a way with word. That was just lovely.
JacquiG said…
Isn't that frustrating when you see something so amazingly beautiful but the camera does it no justice at all! You mention Wales ... have you ever been there? My paternal grandmother was Welsh and my Mum and Stepdad lived in North Wales for years, and then in mid-Wales for a couple of years. It is so beautiful there, but it's a beauty that no camera can really capture. And it was in Wales that I first got the urge to learn to spin wool!

You have such a wonderful way of painting pictures with words. That is a wonderful skill to have, and it's great that you share it through your blog.

Jackie in ON

Popular Posts