#Writephoto ‘Too Bright’ #Haiku #Poetry

Too Bright

Bright sun conquers Earth

Devouring every pigment

Scared bluebells shiver

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This beautiful photograph reminds me of Dylan Thomas’ heartbreaking and powerful poem Sometimes the sky’s too bright.

There are times when the light is too bright and instead of showing you the way, it’s devouring everything, so you can’t see what’s hidden behind it.

Sometimes we need to wait until the sun has mellowed to see what was always there, behind the brightness.

We’re stuck in a rut. Life seems too much, but it isn’t. We often only need to stop, breathe and wait, a short time. The brightness will gradually vanish and we’ll see what’s behind the light isn’t so devastating after all.

A suggestion, while you’re waiting for the brightness to fade, write a poem, a piece of flash fiction, draw a picture, sing a song, dance, read a poem, a story, a novel, go for a walk, ride your bike, take a photo, be creative!

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

This post was written in response to Sue Vincent’s weekly photo prompt

#writephoto

#Writephoto ‘Fallen Lovers’ #Tanka

This Tanka was written in response to Sue Vincent’s weekly photo prompt.

Fallen Lovers

Light dances on rocks,

Fallen in shady forest.

Lovers turned to stone,

Trapped in eternal prison.

Summer breeze sings their lament.

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writephoto

Every week, Sue posts one of her pictures as a prompt for inspiration in whatever form we choose. Use the image to create your own post and link back to Sue’s post.

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Carrot Ranch #FlashFiction ‘Forest Bathing’ #99Words #MondayBlogs

This post was written in response to Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch’s weekly #99 word Flash Fiction Challenge. This week’s prompt is to write a story about forest bathing. You can use the Japanese term, Shinrin Yoku. Check out other entries or take part yourself!

Inspirational Walks

The Verger at Rochester Cathedral heard the author’s cane tapping the cobbled streets below his window. He must be on his way back from his daily, inspirational walk from Gad’s Hill.

Mr. Miles stepped out to greet his old friend. Turk trotted by his master’s side biting a dry branch collected in the woods.

‘A cup of tea, Mr. Dickens?’

‘Not today, Mr. Miles. The seventh instalment of Edwin Drood awaits.’

Miles sighed, watching him trudge up the hill, stopping to peer at the little graveyard under the castle wall where he had expressed his desire to be buried.

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Unfortunately, Charles Dickens died of a stroke before The Mystery of Edwin Drood was finished. Only six instalments were published. Dickens died in June and the seventh, unfinished instalment, would have been published in October 1870.

Neither was he buried at the cemetery at Rochester Cathedral, as had been his wish. Instead, he was buried at Poet’s Corner in Westminster Abbey, due to the pressure of Arthur Stanley, the Dean, who was searching for a famous writer to boost the prestige of the Abbey.

Turk was his favourite dog, but he died five years before him, so Turk wouldn’t have accompanied Dickens on his last walks.

According to his biographer, Peter Ackroyd, Charles Dickens walked for twelve miles a day, either along the London streets or in the countryside in Rochester, Kent, where he lived. He was usually accompanied by one or more of his many dogs.

He either walked on fact-finding missions for his novels, or for inspiration and tranquility.

Gad’s Hill, where he lived for the last years of his life, is a forty-minute walk from Rochester. Dickens preferred to walk alone because his purpose was to think and create. More information on Dickens walks here.

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I find walking in nature, is invigorating and inspiring, so I do it as often as possible. I often post pictures and poems or thoughts after my #SundayWalks, as I did yesterday, for example.

I’m fortunate enough to live in the country, and like Dickens, the town centre is about a 40 minute walk.

I used to walk with my dogs, but they’ve both passed away. I often walk with my grandchildren and children or my husband. I enjoy walking alone, but I don’t mind being accompanied. Even when I’m chatting with someone, I feel inspired and always take a notebook with me to jot down ideas.

Here’s a picture of a path I often take for my walks.

Here’s recent walk with my grandson, who loves inventing stories on our walks. On this occasion, some sheep had been put out to pasture that afternoon.

Does walking leisurely in a forest or the countryside open your senses and inspire you, too?