I sat out on the door-sill of the old shed, under the grapevine, to read through the newly arrived book contract, feeling the thrills of hope and desire (that word again) that accompany a new venture.
Ker-thug. A brown leaf, large as a hand, and as gnarled, dropped onto the open pages. And a second. I looked up and saw the remnant grapes, bird-pecked, and shrivelled into currants. The cat threw herself down a few feet away. They all remind me not to cling; that beauty and glory are momentary. They say, Don’t want too much. Have (lightly hold, enjoy, marvel at) what you have already. Be here now.
And look what the honey-man just brought in, here and now, to our kitchen table. Pure gold. A window for a gingerbread cathedral.
![cathedral windows cathedral windows](https://i0.wp.com/www.penelopetodd.co.nz/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/img_5778-300x224.jpg?resize=300%2C224)
4 responses to “Taking what’s near”
Hi Pen – one million daleks has just posted an entry on intertidal zones. L, C
http://obd105.blogspot.com/2009/04/twilight-zone-pt-2.html
Hmm, yes, the figure, or pause, in the doorway…
There’s something about doorsills, isn’t there, Pen? How often does it happen that big things/potent conversations take place on the threshold between one space and another, be that the entrance to a familiar room or house, or an unknown experience?
Beautiful! What a lovely mellow autumn day it was today – again!