How often do you stop and look at something? Really look – very closely? So much that you actually see…
It’s quite a difficult thing to do. We all rush around in our hectic lives, so to stop and truly see is quite different. Almost feels strange to spend so much time just looking…
Ancient rock in the waves
I spent some time doing just that recently on a beach in Lewis. At first all you see is rocks, but then the colours and the shapes become more apparent. The first photographs are difficult. Then it becomes easier. I begin to see. As if the rocks pose to have their portraits taken.
Related rings in the rock
These particular rocks are 3 billion years old. 2/3 as old as the Earth itself. The heat, pressure and then ice and waves have created fantastic colour and fantastic shape. The rocks will be here long after I have gone. So I’m glad I spent some time looking at them. I slowed down, took some time, and looked. Nice to share some time with the Gneiss. And not to hurry…
(If you liked these photos, have a look at Sunny Scotland won’t stop me taking photos)
hands that have held each other for over 40 years
Last weekend I visited my Mum and Dad back in York, and my Uncle was there too. A long planned weekend, a chance to tell some of the old stories and record them for the family files. Do we all reach that stage when it suddenly seems important to capture these stories and save them for future generations?
Good stories they are too. A wealth of happy times, full of laughter, excitement and quite a bit of travel. The dining table has heard them all before, and probably will again. But where else should you tell family stories apart from round the family dining table!
Mum doesn’t really contribute too much now. Several strokes mean she finds it hard to join in. But she is present, and if she doesn’t listen, she does at least hear. And that makes her part of the stories too.
Uncle in full flow
An uncle is always good for a riveting story, all the more riveting when tongues are loosened by fine wine (Gigondas, Domaine du Cayron, awesome!)
Listening and hearing
That arm doesn’t work, the legs have given up, and the wheelchair is a bitch, but Mum’s still present and we hope she hears the stories too.
And occasionally an awakening and some shared laughter by all. A ray of sunshine.
Still time for laughter