healingwords: poetry for the soul

On my wall I have a print of a Cambodian dancer by Rodin. This constellation of scattered flowers reminds me of the energy of a Rodin dancer lighting up the dry, stony land. 

How wonderful to see the sea today as the wind whipped up the waves, the sun sparkled and the white half moon hung in the sky above the waving palm trees.

I am posting a poem today as this is what I do every day and I am trying to keep up a semblance of normality. Wishing you all well. 

A beautiful morning in Xabia where the sunlight bounced off the still water sprinkling stars across the bay.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

This daisy was winking from the crunchy, dry woodland floor, a touch of spring as the days grow shorter and the land prepares for winter. The camera flash darkened the background and details the simple beauty of the 'Margarita'.  © 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 last days of  June have come with a swift and harsh reminder of summer heat and with it the return of evening life. School is finished, the municipal pool is open, the village is filling with holiday makers. The streets hum with sound as doors are opened to let in the cool night air. We sleep through the hot afternoons and stay up late as the sun goes down and the stars come out.  Photo of the sky over Parcent by Chris Knight NIGHT FALL So hot by day we live by night, when the breeze fans the sky, rustling through tree trimmed valleys scuttling dried riverbeds to the sea. Cooling now the village breathes, echoes of children freed from school, dogs barking their ‘campo’ song, doves cooing as they fly to roost. High above street life I watch as the sun releases its closing rays, soft pinks glazing the inkiness, flushing purple the deepening blue. Drifting dusk bugs bestow an evening feast for darting swifts, swooping close...