ALONG THE WAY:PUDDLES

PUDDLE1smYesterday morning I went out for my first run in about ten days having spent a while feeling sorry for myself and my sinuses which seem to have turned into some kind of erratic storm warning system. It was windy but the sky was blue. The road was lined with water from all the recent rains but the road itself had dried to a dusty pale grey in the high spring wind. The puddles reflected the sky from near white to a deep petrol blue that would pierce the heart. The stain of receding water rimmed each pool with deep grey blue like kohl on a goths eye, the shimmering edge of the water a jagged blade.

Often puddles look to me like scraps of the sky that have fallen to the ground, shining blue off-cuts of silk from Natures sewing table. Puddles make everything less solid, they are like holes in the world. If I am not careful I could fall through into the sky or into another reality. Or maybe the real world is through there and I only a trembling facsimile.  Puddles make me think of other possibilities and question my assumptions. Or maybe I just like shiny things…

So I splashed through the puddles and got home just as a bank of grey cloud raced over the mountains from the west dulling the ruffling pools as death clouds the eye and for the rest of the afternoon as the wind rose and the rain spat on the windows I tortured some paper in an attempt to capture the magic but I could not quite get it and that is as it should be. I wouldn’t want the real thing on a  piece of paper, I’d rather go out and see it in the world.

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6 responses to “ALONG THE WAY:PUDDLES

    • Thank you so much Roy, that is lovely to hear. Sorry for the delay in replying, my internet got knocked out by the high winds so I am offline for a few days. Thanks yet again for being there 🙂

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