healingwords: poetry for the soul

Our pocket patio is looking at its best in mid June. The geraniums are blooming all shades from crimson to pink, the green is yet to fade in the heat of Summer and the flowering herbs are attracting the bees. This photo was taken after a sudden downpour of rain washed the plants clean. 

The swallow population is at its peak now with the fledglings all now gaining strength and joining their flock. At dusk and zone our house seems to be at the centre of a vortex of birds as they fly over the roof, skimming the terrace, whizzing past the front windows. There is a flock of maybe 50 or more birds and they swoop in formations of up to 10, missing windows and walls by mere inches. It is an incredible sight with the added benefit of clearing up the mosquitos before they bite! I have spent hours trying to capture them in a photograph, arms up until it makes me dizzy but the birds are too fast. I am left with a trace of their amazing flight as I gasp at the speed and agility. 

On an uninspired, tired day I was delighted to receive this lovely photograph of a foxglove flower from my brother Chris Knight on his visit to Kinver woods near Stourbridge in England. The foxglove was one of my favourite flowers when I was a child and I was told many tales about the plant, reflecting its rich history in myth and medicine. The bell like flowers could be slippers for the wily fox to soften his pad in the hen house, or they were homes to tiny flying fairies, hiding from view. They would make a perfect purple hat for a pixie or a silken bed for fairy babies.  The plant itself is seen to sway on its tall, leggy stems even when there is no breeze and another myth suggests it is bowing in respect to the passing Fae.  I was not allowed to touch the plant, only look as it would upset the fairies. A little older and not such a believer in fairies I learned  that it is highly poisonous, causing stomach upsets and even dangerous heart effects if any part of ...

I came across this hidden, little patch of flowered green close to the dried river bed near my home. It looked like a perfect rock garden as if the succulents, grass, herbs and flowers had been planted around the rocks by an unseen hand. 

This beautiful holm oak is in the centre of a hidden grove of trees, protected by smaller oaks and brambles. Entering the grove feels like walking into the rarefied atmosphere of a great Cathedral, a sacred space of stillness.  I feel calmed and renewed leaning on the strong trunk, looking upwards through the canopy to the sky. 

Today I am reminded of the importance of simple things and how this world health crisis is making us rethink what we really need in life. I am grateful for the unconditional love of my family and friends who make my life worth living.

May 20th is  World Bee Day, when we are encouraged to acknowledge the important role bees and other insects play as pollinators. The date was chosen in commemoration of the birth of Anton Jansa, the pioneer of beekeeping who was born on May 20th 1734. At a time when bee populations are threatened world wide by the use of pesticides, changes in habitat, global warming and additional viral infections it is important to consider the vital role they play not only in the natural environment but as pollinators for our agricultural crops. We can all help in a small way by allowing the growth of plants like dandelions, often treated as weeds, flowers and bee friendly plants in our gardens, stopping the weekly cutting of lawns and not using chemical insecticides known to harm bees and other insects. 

The hillsides in this area of the Marina Alta in Spain are all crisscrossed with narrow terraces, stone walls raised as the soil is cleared. They cling to the slopes and in many places are still planted with almonds, olives and grape vines. More are abandoned, especially those high up the hills with poor access. It is humbling to think how they were built hundreds of years ago, dating back to the Moorish population living on this land. They would have had just their hands and maybe donkeys to walk the hard paths up to the terraces, to take advantage of every metre of available land and make it productive. 

I spotted this giant grasshopper sat still on my patio. It looked lost and didn't jump away. The patio is enclosed within 4 steep walls so I have no idea how it arrived, maybe it was blown in on the wind. We carried it carefully back to the countryside where it shuffled away into the grass.  Grasshopper in Spanish is 'saltamontes'. I love this word, it literally means jumping mountains. I hope this prehistoric looking creature recovered its energy and was able  to jump mountains again. 

These brilliant yellow flowers on the verges around the countryside terraces and fields were buzzing with insects. The stamens reminded me of a birds nest with the open, squawking mouths of tiny fledgings waiting to be fed. 

I stood mesmerised by the movement of the wind through this patch of long grasses. The changing patterns and colours reminded me of the hypnotic effect of the wind on water, waves building and crashing on the shore or whipped up waves rippling over the surface of a lake. 

As I can not go out to take new photographs of the changing seasons, I am going back over a few years of photographs of the natural world around me in Spain and from last year's visit to Ireland, England and Wales. Today I have chosen to go to the sea, let the waves wash over me, their rhythm soothing, repetition slowly relaxing the tension, worries breaking on the sand.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

Best birthday wishes to my brother Chris, for always being there for me.  © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

The banks of the river in the Pego marshes were dazzled with flitting dragonflies, flashes of brilliant turquoise blue and scarlet crossing our path. This one obliged by landing for a second, just time to snap its beauty before the whirr of wings as it buzzed away.  © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

These beautiful flowers bloomed for a short time and then were gone. The spring flowers were spectacular this year after heavy rains in April and I was fascinated to see how each week the flowers changed. Often they seemed grouped by colours, one week I counted 8 different yellow flowers, the next week purples or pinks, then the most glorious shades of blue.  © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

The first day of a new poetry project, as yet without a name (any ideas?) where I will be posting a short poem  and photograph on this blog and via my social media links. You are welcome to share! I will be continuing posting my poetry as and when the muse strikes. Thank you for your support.  Twitter Pinterest Healing Words Poetry Facebook . Healing Words Poetry Instagram