Coming down out of the freezing sky with its depths of light, like an angel, or a Buddha with wings, it was beautiful, and accurate, striking the snow and whatever was there with a force that left the imprint of the tips of its wings — five feet apart — and the grabbing thrust of its feet, and the indentation of what had been running through the white valleys of the snow — and then it rose, gracefully, and flew back to the frozen marshes to lurk there, like a little lighthouse, in the blue shadows — so I thought: maybe death isn’t darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us — as soft as feathers — that we are instantly weary of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes, not without amazement, and let ourselves be carried, as through the translucence of mica, to the river that is without the least dapple or shadow, that is nothing but light — scalding, aortal light — in which we are washed and washed out of our bones. Author

Sunday, 20 July 2014

Absent until Tuesday

Hello everyone
Just to let everyone know that I will begin blogging again on Tuesday. Thankyou to everyone who has messaged me...I'm ok..just worn out looking after my furbabies. A random dog in the village has bitten two of my cats and they have had to be penned to recover from their injuries. Other people in the village have also had their cats injured. It's a worrying time. So please forgive me and I'll be back on Tuesday. Until then take care and happy crafting

1 comment :

  1. Oh my goodness-thank goodness you & your pets are ok.

    Take care,