While pondering of the openness and barrenness of the moon, mirrored in the sand of the beach, the openness of space is making me wonder where is life, whether here and perhaps to be discovered out there in the universe as my eyes drift upwards to the sky.
The bright lights in the distance, across the harbour and over to Wales, reassures me I’m not alone.
The waves’ sounds in the distance charm my soul and remind me of the times playing in the sand as a child with my bucket and spade together with my brother.
Reggie Perrin, I cry for a split second, then with my feet and emotions thundering back to earth, I noticed the dawn calling swimmers in the Bristol Channel, reminding me, even though I was wrapped up, its around freezing point.
Saying to myself, are these swimmers mad, or perhaps in balance with nature mentally and physically. The thought of painful join floated into my mind as I looked at the organised stacked of garments reminds me to do my ironing upon returning home.
Summer will be here soon, will the beaches be filled with families, reminiscing our childhood holidays.
The moon is so alone, singing against the contrast of blue hour, standing here, my thoughts are of the moon’s `poetic’ gender, language and tone.
What is the moon saying, looking down at us as life is born again with the sunlight switching off the negative dark tones?
With Butlins being closed, why are the lights on, how does this reflect, square up to their carbon neutral policy? The sunlight’s corona of warmth washes away the coldness of the night.
The tree nakedness echo’s the temperature of my bare hands as I hold the camera, reminding me of the coldness of my nights in Scotland.
Happier times of children, will return after COVID-19.
All the hard work the community and workers endure in making our spaces happy, playful and safe will return; I will take my vaccine, doing my part, returning life as before.
As I stroll past, I start to feel that my memories won’t return, and we, humankind, will have to learn to live with the enemy for years to come.
We are at war; the virus is the silent enemy, the sea barrage is like the vaccine, protecting us, with the lights of our Mum and Dad shining down upon us extending their hand and showing us the way to safety, reminding me that parenthood never ends, wherever life takes you.
The emptiness of love and fun, those days I remember as a child, on the swings, with my mum, dad, brother and Kelly, our rescue Labrador.
The warm and smile I have on my face, will this happen again for others.
Of course it will, just in a different way I say to myself.
Is it too early to work, not for me? I love the sunrise, the start of the new; what is the next flicker of time for me in our universe will bring for me.
The light of our sun guiding me to see where I go today. Its security and warmth are like my jacket, a blanket of friendliness.
Yippie, the sun has got its hat on; we live in such a beautiful world; those moments of hope happen every day.
As my hair gets greyer, I realise we all need support in different ways; we are not an “Island”.
Whether you need a guiding hand of help, the new-born day brings me hope.
Help comes in different forms, in many ways, remembering David Prowse MBE, “Use the green cross code”, a childhood icon of mine, helping me learn how to cross the road as a child.
David died in November 2020, aged 85, which was a poignant moment for me, which wavered my emotions for a while, making me review those childhood TV memories on YouTube.
Time to stop, time to think, time for nothing.
Needing space and time to stop, reflect, the some of nothing in my mind, learn and discover who I am today; looking at nothing helps me with this.
This chair and space are one of my favourite local places; looking out over the Bristol Channel, looking at nothing, having a blank mind in the morning help me breathe, think of nothing and to reflect.