Friday 18 July 2014

A Magical Day

Last Friday began with a telephone order of lemon eucalyptus and neem oils and a white sage smudge stick from one of the oldest herbalists in London, a Harry Potteresque, dark wooded shop on the Walworth Rd that I used to be able to walk to from my flat in London. I could picture and smell Baldwins as I placed my order and reminisced, so grateful to my friend and hedge witch Mandi that I can control the fleas, as if by magic, on my dog and cats without resorting to dangerous chemicals.

It was full moon and I had a signed copy of "East of The Sun, West of the Moon" by Jackie Morris to pick up from Solva Woolen Mill, near St David's. I get such pleasure in being able to give presents that are signed personally by the artist. I have learned the hard way to get copies of each book with my name in them, otherwise I give them away too.

After a cappuccino in the cool mill full of woollen and luxurious goods, I headed to St Non's well.


 I come here at least eight times a year and have never noticed this flower before


I met some dogs on the way down to the well who had obviously had a very good time there. I have never seen it so muddy.


The cows were very insistent that I not visit the chapel this time. They would not let me through. Sputnik, my dog had refused to come down to the well this time, possibly because they had been a little over familiar and curious with her at Solstice?


Then to the cafe on the beach at White Sands and a hot chocolate with whipped cream. The first time I ever had this luxury was in The Copper Kettle in Cambridge prior to seeing Euripides' "Electra" in classical Greek at Kings College almost 40 years ago. My best friend was Italian, wore Fiorrucci slacks, spoke impeccable Latin and Greek and insisted I try a hot chocolate with whipped cream.... and here I sit on the edge of Wales remembering ....




gluten free apple crumble and ice cream followed ...bliss



 A selfie of the artist dreaming. The idea of a Rainbow Labyrinth colouring book came to me out of the blue.


Sputnik kept a look out


 




I could not resist a sunset swim


under the cloud dragons
               
                     

and as I drove home, the silvery moon had risen above St Davids




Wednesday 2 July 2014

Love Letter To The Earth



I want to make deep, 
passionate, 
real, 
unhurried love 
to you, 
beloved Earth,
every day of the rest of my life
I want to lie down on your soft belly and feel you breathe
You are a wild, untameable, woman who will not be rushed
and if I can slow down and listen long enough
I might also gain the courage to go wild
I might hear the myriad secrets that you hold
the thousand daily miracles that you unfold
in every single cell of your magnificent body
I might dare to dance with you
my heart beating time with the timeless heart
of this wild untameable woman who will not be hurried or rushed
I want to slow 
down 
down 
down 
down
down
and really, 
truly, 
madly, 
deeply, 
slowly 
love the Earth


by BrĂ­d Wyldearth 2014

Inspired by http://www.lovelettertotheearth.com/,
what started off as a poem encouraging others to slow down and listen to the Earth and has also metamorphosed into an invitation from Earth and then a statement from me that I want to love her, has at last become what I think she was always intended to be, a love letter from me to the Earth. I am amazed what a difference personal pronouns can make and how long it has taken me to declare my love directly to Earth. It is terrifying to me to declare my love to any being in this way. With humans there is a very real possibility of rejection and even ridicule and shame. With Earth I realise that there is no possibility of rejection. The invitation to love her has been there from the moment I was conceived, waiting for me to notice and listen and accept. This letter is therefore both a declaration and an R.S.V.P.