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023 |
With a book of philosophy lying discarded on the daisy - splattered lawn beside me, I sit on a chair in the rectangular garden at the back of my house.  It is a bright, hot, English summer day, with cotton-wool clouds slowly moving high in the blue vault of a sky above. The 'Passion Flower ' creeper is in full bloom and its blue and white star-shaped flowers have got their faces turned upwards towards the bright orb of the sun. I sit here writing to you, and I truly hope that you're well and happy? I am scribbling in an old notebook that I'll later transcribe unto the computer keyboard. In front of me is the ceramic table white and blue, with its four elephant heads forming the base. It is surrounded by its four little elephant calves - four stools in the same style - positioned around the other as if part of some proboscidean family. The set is from Thailand, and looks too exotic, too eastern for this English garden. My mind is at peace - separated from all the troubles of the world - the fighting - the accidents - the emergencies the stress - the greed and selfishness of the business world. I sit here alone in the garden - at this moment in time and I allow my mind to wander, stimulated by the book that is on the grass. I think of you - all of you. |