This afternoon I took a moment to look back on September, a month of changing light and incredible bursts of colour. Every day brought something different to my world, a morning view shared before I made my way into a new challenge with fresh eyes and hope in my heart.
Here's my month as it descended on each new morning, my first thoughts captured and then sent to Twitter before I had a chance to analyse or think or begin to try to change what was there in front of me. Hope your days were memorable and creative, too.
Sun: the breath of wagging tails swirls &
rusting leaves dance, stepping out on a path of beauty, the last melody before
the gaping sleep.
@MargotMcCuaig 2 Sep
Mon: wind pushes into the sky like ivy climbing a
chimney breast. A gull catches the swirl in its throat & glides, the
morning call piercing
Tue: clouds roll across a low sky & leaves
shiver in its gentle breeze, a bird dances on trembling bark & glides into
the shadow of morning.
Wed: the sky is silent & yet little puffs of
watery mascara float in the distance, the smoky tears of an angel washing her
sadness in morning
Thur: rowan fruit sheaths morning like strong hills
on the horizon, flaming stillness seeping into low grey sky & washing it in
pink promise
Fri: trees stand still less they break the silence
of morning, a late summer bloom watches, waist deep in soil, head bowed in
self-doubt.
Sat: a gull cuts a shadow on the chimney breast
& the misty sky watches it dance across time, a hidden message in a story
long forgotten.
Sun: a dog's bark glides the sky, its rafting twang
stealing presence like a child discovering Christmas, its gravity captured in a
smile.
Mon: beyond the naked eye misty rain gathers
effortlessly in fluffy clouds, its presence pulsing like yesterday's brightly
falling stars.
Tues: a cloud tumbles from the sky like an anchor
& morning catches it in broad arms that swim in the shallows diverting the
onset of rain.
Wed: polished wings brush sky, feathers sweeping
openness with artist's grey, the colour of a universe washed clean & left
to dry in the sun
Thur: the scent of autumn rain hangs like fabric,
entwined clouds part & sway, an audience that whistles like sweet music in
a careless sky.
Fri: tall trees brush the clouds in autumnal green,
the sun, bright & yellow, pulls back & glows a virginal white, beaming
fresh, new sky.
Sat: streetlights glow defiantly against a dawn
sky, shadows of wise old trees wink knowingly in the direction of the collision
of morning.
Sun: raindrops kiss the window, the merging day
pulsing in translucent drops that capture night & breaking dawn in a
kaleidoscope of colour
Monday: an angel's tear spills silently, its passage
captured by a passing bird that mimics its shadow & tumbles to the earth
like a stone.
Tue: a silvery hue threads unexpectedly through
swaying branches, the flood of a new day catching the solitude of distant stars
by surprise
Wed: the low light of morning glistens on east
facing windows, the shadows of tumbling autumn dancing like butterflies on its
projection.
Thur: misty rain polishes pavements & the
morning preens itself in its reflection, a magpie with liquorice wings gathers
its secrets & flees
Fri: leaves sigh & part, tumbling like
feathers, too slight to imprint the sodden grass yet bold enough to make bended
branches & sky weep.
Sat: silence earths on washed pavements that
glisten in patches of promise, their secrets whispering in the throats of
passing gulls
Sun: branches bend & leaves tremble &
tumble, folds of green & yellow dancing under a blanket of morning rich
with silence & hidden light.
Mon: crisp white sky hangs like wet cotton sheets
on a still day, the breath of passing birds singing in hearts anchored in
yesterday.
Tues: night lingers, its hue pressing hard into the
shadows. A spider's web gleans from within the silence, morning embracing the
distance.
Wed: soft breeze circles the skyline & falling
leaves crumble under nature's sweeping palms, gathering like tombstones on
thickening grass.
Thu: sky falls in milky brightness, the frothy top
of morning kissing trees, its sap seeping into mystic roots that swallow
summer's pulse.
Fri: morning drops from heaven in a solemn cloud,
still breath hushed, its smoky grey settling calmly among the silent, uncertain
leaves.
Sat: White cotton ripples on blue sky like the ebb
tide on morning sea. A blackbird bobs in its vast waters, preening its majestic
shadow.
Sun: day mimics summer & sun kisses an
unsuspecting sky. Birds stop & stare, wings still & throats silent as
they soar into the husky chorus
Mon: pink angels embrace pale blue sky & the
world falls silent, the miaow of a cat swallowed by the darkest hour strolling
nonchalantly by.
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