healingwords: poetry for the soul

It was a beautiful first day of February at Les Deveses with a warm breeze blowing and the sun shining on my face. The recent storm had carved out the river bed and dunes, forming new sand banks which were lined up with fisherman and a lone fisher woman. The shore line was littered with debris from the storm, most of which was arranged in interesting and beautiful shapes, art forming from chaos.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

The passing storm Gloria lifted and deposited lorry loads of stones and sand from the Marina Alta beaches, smashing them into sea front buildings and leaving trails sneaking inland. The clean up from the storm is now starting, to rebuild the promenades and businesses and import sand to the beaches of these loved resort towns before the tourist season gets underway at Easter.  This image is from the sandstone rocks at Xabia where blocks were carved out for building leaving a strange, eroded shore. This smoothed pebble stood out against the mustard sandstone.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

After a day of storm that closed Alicante airport, blocked roads with snow, flooded rivers and caused enormous damage (the worse of all two tragic deaths), the village continued to feel its effects overnight. Lightening so bright it woke me with the light image flashed on closed eyes followed by crashing thunder and fierce, destructive rain. The house stayed mostly undamaged but the windows leaked from the wind lashing rain against them with drips running down the walls like tears.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

This is an image of the Rio Gorgos close to bursting in Xalo. The river has flooded in Xabia where the sea has devastated the coast, damaging many businesses and sea fronts. Storm Gloria is due to last another 24 hours, with heavy winds, torrential rain and snow on higher ground. A day to secure the house and stay indoors.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

Today I stood in welcome rain, the storm brewing and breaking over the hills.  After months of blue skies we need more rain, the countryside is tinder crisp, the river bed dry stones, the trees and flora thirsting for water. Today was a short burst of refreshing cool and as the season cools and the warm sea holds its heat, we can expect an autumn of heavy rains. I hope they will be good rains, not the destructive force that can affect this area after a hot summer.  SUNDAY STORM   Weeks of summer heat, life adjusts to sun’s rhythm, if not done before the fireball starts its westward arc    the toil can wait another day.   Heat blasting rock face, geckos hide in creviced shade, green fades to dusty grey as water leaches from cracked, parched earth.   I join the creatures, spend days holed in cool of thick walled cave, come alive at night when owl swoop and bats flitter.   Today the season turned, terr...

This is the view from the El Carrascal hillside, looking over the valley towards the Mediterranean Sea. The sun warmed the damp earth after the nights cleansing rains. The air smelt of pine and vibrated with birdsong.  AFTER THE RAIN   In Southern country, where arid desert creeps, rains fall brings shock of raging storm violence. Woken by light strobing hills, thunder’s drum crashing, rolling round 'Pop' valley like Fiesta’s fireworks flare. Rain comes, sudden, urgent drumming, drilling on tiles bouncing off terracotta, storming from gutter to street. Rush to batten down old shutters, pitch pine split from harsh sun, wind thrashing, driving lashing rain, spilling onto cold floors. Wired night of fitful sleep, broken in anxious unease, drifting between squalls until dawn breaks through breathing cloud. New day, blessed with warming light, tarmac sparkles on washed streets, refreshed earth drinks in liquid life, ...

Whilst coming to terms with my own stormy personality I find solace in the changing moods and seasons of nature. I empathise with the sadness of a cloudy, grey day and feel brightened by the bright, blue light of a Spanish sky. Wind moves me, both agitating and invigorating.  Rain refreshes, nurtures the baked ground and washes away my tears as it cleanses the dusty air.  Whilst we wait for the storms of winter to pass I retain the hope of longer days, flowering blooms, the coming of the light and lightening of mood. All things must pass, as in Seasons, life.  AFTER THE STORM The brooding sky darkens as  hostile clouds shroud the hills, snuffing out summer sun's last dance.  Wrathful winds howl their ire, in mournful seduction as field mice sneak through forgotten cracks seeking shelter in warm kitchens, a quiet refuge to while out the rage. As cleansing rains nurture the parched earth for winter's sleep we weather the storm,  ...

This year I have missed my Autumn and Winter visits to England. I have always loved the autumn in Warwickshire, the freshness in the air, the glory of our deciduous woodlands as their leaves change from green to gold, the fast flowing rivers after a summer of heat and drought in Spain. As I dip into winter knowing I will be back in the light and sunshine I am charmed by its chill, our walks on crisp ground wrapped up against the wind, home to cosy rooms. Change is sometimes forced on us and the death of my parents and sale of the family house has ended the frequent visits to my childhood home in Coventry.   For now, I am happy where I am, with my family in the Spanish village which has become our home. Indeed, the very thought of getting off the plane at Birmingham airport and not driving straight to the old house is still too hard to bear so I have not yet faced going back. I am content with the memories of special times and special people, knowing that before too long I ...