Choice and "I Spy"

(Sharing Thursday  WOWH   ------Choice)
When I was working I never seemed to have time for choice.  Somehow I just got on and did what had to be done. Now retired, I have time for choice but for some things not the capacity nor theSharing energy, nor the desire.  Priorities change and too much choice can be overwhelming.
As a rural dweller I truly find the variety available in some huge shopping areas unhelpful and  tiring, so that I will leave without making a choice or a purchase.
Yet whether choice is real or no, it is essential to any feeling I have that I have some control over my own life.
I for one would never want to feel that I was not responsible for my behaviour.
I have grown towards the feeling that not only do I in reality know and understand less and less than I once knew when I was younger, but also there has been an increasing acceptance that I and all around me are ultimately both important and insignificant parts of a huge all encompassing whole.
In fact I seem to manage to believe in choice (free will) and in predestination (which makes choice redundant)!

(I Spy - writing prompt from WOWH)
Today I remember a time when "I spy" helped us through a fog.  My parents had hired a car (a bit of a wreck) and in a really bad fog we passengers leaned out of the windows playing a form of" I spy" so that we stayed on the road, avoided obstacles and made it to our destination safely.
This was in a different time so many years ago, when vehicle condition was a far more relaxed affair than today and there was far less traffic on the roads.

Feb 2nd

FEB 2

Fellow feeling
I share with Fiona
Frustration
Terminal problems with computer
Hoping things soon sorted.
All my decent photos of my dog
are on the hard drive.
So sadness surfaces,
But remembering now
Anna and Frances shared
their understanding with me.
Fellow feeling gives such strength.


On - not going for a walk

A bright, a brittle day
with cold air gathering for tonight
to seal the water to the ground.

A day a dog would love
for bounding out across the moor,
for slipping on ice frozen pools.

Look to the sky, pull round a blanket.
Do not go out, encased in brittle
Memory which fractures on a walk.

The sun out there shines strong
But does not warm the ground.
It will not light  within my mood.

Stay wrapped up here inside today
to see the spaces that are left
and punctuate the hours with holes.

High cloud is kindly, lifting darkness
that a gloomier day would drop upon
all wearied backs and shoulders.

It is a gift, this light that brings
A whispering of explanation,
of joy to things that make no sense.

So to return that kindness
may I venture out beyond the door
to fill bird feeders before it freeze tonight.

Feb 1 and then...

small stones

A hole in the heather
Inside that hole is a whole way of life:
A rabbbit burrow, warren of tunnels;
Mice in tiny corners beneath the grass
And worms and insects flourish.

the cool smooth feel of the wet peat we unearthed
so clean so fresh;
yet when we get home we wash off the dirt.

Clean away the dirt
 Brush away the cobwebs
A fresh start.
but look at those cocoons
they're home to spiderlings
they probably eat midges
We'll keep the cobwebs then

I Spy....
(Writing prompt...WOWH)

We are in the car and I choose S.
They guess and guess and have to give up.
"So what was it then" my brother asks.
"Stink" I say.
"But you can't see that."
"Almost," I reply "it's strong enough."
"Yes it's pretty bad."
"You could cut it with a knife!"
We all four mum and dad, brother and I look at the dog, who's from next door - (we're dog-sitting his holiday.)
He looks back at us and we all shake our heads
I'm sure he shakes his…
It is now that we realise the stench comes from the fields outside -
Bone meal fertiliser is far les fragrant than, what gran used to call the "good country smells" -  fresh manure.
We all apologised to the dog.

I spy with my little eye something beginning with...
Any letter that I choose.
Which obscure item can I use?
I spy something that makes me want to cry
A dog like mine and I hear someone calls his name.

Jan 31 Stone

Today my friend slept too much and too long.  He will not wake again. It came, as an asteroid hits the earth, not unexpected but no less destructive for our anticipation.  I shall miss the companionship of an uncritical, trustworthy and trusting presence in my life.  He could keep secrets and never tell.  Always welcoming when we met again, he never showed resentment at shortcomings.  Unconditional affection was his to give in abundance and he loved us all.  My old friend, my dog died today.

Last stone of the month of the river:-
Reading so many wonderful stones each day in the last month has been a privilege for which I am very grateful. I have admired the writing, laughed at some things, shared sad or worried feelings at others. Thanks to everyone. Especially to everyone who has organised. Thank you for letting me be part of this experience. H

Jan 30 Stone (A fistful of pebbles)

 

 In the sea loch, look at the mud, smooth, dark and shining from the outgoing tide.  It is an attraction to the feeding golden eye, the curlew and a heron.  Seagulls and terns check it out for prey.  And, fortunate one day, I watched an otter continue through the river as it flowed its way from shore, through banks of mud far out to the furthest edge of the turning tide itself.  With humped back, he galumphed the squelchy mire and disturbed the birds, who raucous, punctuated his every move with their scolding.



Seeing what is not there and hearing what no longer has sound,  s(he) played patience.  There inside the patterns of the numbers, suites and the cards, (s)he could find structure and control close enough to  grasp; could remember as (s)he wished and not be troubled for a response.  The sound of the cards gave all the appearance of activity that satisfied all watchers.



On a rock in the midst of a blue frozen river an otter surprised a sea eagle. The eagle might have made it a meal but the otter ducked back beneath the ice and swam for his life to the next breathing hole.


Forests, deserts, gardens and plains can all be seen in miniature colourful amongst  the lichen and mosses that populate a rock.



(Jan 30 stone)
 Clouds in lines blow bubbles in the east of this cold afternoon.  In the south west the sun  is pulling the cloud-curtain across the daylight. A bright night will soon be here and we shall have the glint of stars to pattern a black blanket sky.  On a glittering carpet we shall step with care, as frost sparkles and crunches beneath our feet.  There may be snow tomorrow.

Jan 29 Stone

Jan 29 Stone
From their green sheath the flowers  emerge.
On the broad lower petal-lip lie yellow tongues,
Shaded by fragile forked  canopies.
The iris blooms;  royal blue.

Jan28 Stone

A dreich day wraps damp fingers
Around me.
Bird-like  I seek a  dry  hedge
To surround me.
Dry at home I the feel  warmth
All around me.
Now will  rest from all probing
Surround me.