Strange, but today I have a blank cloud on my mind which reflects the view out of the office window. Soft gray and green colors, drizzle dancing amongst purple lavender and leafy tree branches. It looks cool and inviting as I stare at it from my office-desk and the world out there seems alien to the life I am in. I feel hot and uncomfortable in this atmosphere that is so loaded with clinical stuff under harsh fluorescent lights. If anything in me feels alive, then it is in the department of Wishing and Wistfulness.
I miss people whom I have never met, but maybe one day will. Those individuals who will pass me by within inches and oceans, and still we'll not speak or touch. Our eyes might have locked a few seconds, but hardly recognized something familiar there. Then of course there are those lives that will never ever come near, not even crossing anywhere near my own footpath...
And my mind wanders back to those real moments when time was spent amongst Christmas trees. In saying that, I mean dark green pine needle trees growing in the mountainous woods. Planted by man and invasive amongst Hawthorn and May, but still beautifully crafted, scented and utterly enchanting... Their bark roughly mapped and layers of time etched on each one whether bulky, willowy, tall or short. Each one of these trees embraced in the lush leafy arms of pink bell heather, scented bluebells and the foxy freckled white lady named Foxglove. Wood smoke comes drifting my way – wherefrom? It awakens a vivid image in my searching mind and with it comes a deeper longing for something nameless that circles on the edges that are just out of reach. I don’t think this “something” can be made into something with words either. It seems to be so light and precious, I dare not breathe too deeply now or move because it may never come my way again.
Maybe this year will be a year full of joy and grace.