oldyarns. tells the bowerbird stories

story 298. forever.

“if I had a flower for every time I thought of you...

I could walk through my garden forever.”

~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

 

*

{papery blush pink peony roses,

bought early summer last year. revisted.}

story 295. the moment before.

often it's the moment

before

the moment

that's the most

interesting to me.

 

{photo of heavy morning fog high on

Cradle Mountain Overland Track, February 2009.}

story 293. bloomed.

my perennial favourite,

bloomed.

velvet petals,

wilful scent.

borrowed from a garden

along the footpath.

dos gardenia.

now sitting quietly

on the kitchen window sill.

story 286. softly.

nourishing breakfasts amongst

fallen petals

a beautiful light filled room

to sleep, comforted

a giant bunch of fresh camellias

by grandiflora

(& a little sneaky fox by kylie gartside).

*

a weekend of softness.

thank you.

story 285. 'til soon.

taking a few days off

for a retreat to a special

seaside place.

be back next week

with photos from a lovely weekend

just past in Sydney

& that long promised

shop update.

'til soon.

*

{image of gorgeous Frankie magazine

+ cosy wool blanket

= a contented space}

story 260. there will be.

"I wish we could live forever
Then melt into the sun
Melt into the sun
Time is gonna change you
Once it gets you on the run
Gets you on the run

There will be

There will be a light

Let the warmth of my love
Dry away all your tears
Fear not for I am with you
I will fear not - fear not - with you here

There will be

There will be a light"

words & music "There will be a Light" by Ben Harper

whom we're off to see this weekend.

so excited, he is one of my

very favourites.

*

enjoy your easter people.

be safe,

find that light,

& let it in.

 

{photos of glass votives taken at my sis's house a while ago,

would like to know what sort of mix of paint/wax gives that effect?}

story 249. beautiful ugly: no rules.

mentioned here already,

the gardenias are

acting a little

peculiarly.

flowering in late March?

logic says its due to

a long rainy summer.

or rather perhaps,

they simply

feel like doing

the unexpected

for a change.

snubbing their perfect little white noses

at the rules.

hoorah for that.

*

{observant folk might notice

there's been some progress with the outside tiles

 - compared to here -

yes, the balcony is nearly finished.

looking forward to using it as our

outside room soon enough.}

 

 

story 247. how i wished.

when I was younger

I secretly wished

to be a ballerina.

mostly it was the tutu.

on recently announcing this

to my mother,

she was amused.

this found tulle skirt

and framed ballerina print

are possibly

as close as its ever

gonna get.

sigh.

story 246. yet more cake.

another cake,

another tiny happy recipe...

'a versatile sort of cake'.

I used frozen berries

in mine.

it was yum.

*

hmmm, there seems to be quite

a lot of cake

lately.

story 237. join the dots.

I have gathered shells

since a little girl.

its a habit,

a ritual I observe

without thinking of it.

a way to bring a little piece

of the sea

home.

(I have even smuggled

them home through customs from overseas.

it seemed worth the risk;

that's how instinctive it is

for me to collect shells...)

I found this treasured set

belonging to someone who took their collecting seriously.

 a stocking box filled with matchboxes,

each compartment labeled

by species

place & year.

scattered places

- like Mornington, Middle Park,

Port Fairy (Victoria), Waratah (NSW) and Victor Harbour (SA)

between the years 1952 to 1954 -

dots on a map joined together by a beachcombing bowerbird.

 

a beautiful story imagined;

perhaps even enough to compose the script to a movie?

I like that idea.