Sunday, 6 August 2017

Lammas - Woman Wandering

Woman Wandering

Lammas...harvest and the deep pull of land and sea as the light shines blue and corn undulates in yellow gold. I took a walk from Housel Bay on the Lizard to Church Cove .The air was fresh and warm for the first time in weeks after thunderstorms last weekend. The  orange fume of whispering jacks and the mauve of heather strikes me ...it is August, harvest and  everywhere there is a flow, a dance, a fluttering and fanfare of wings: a rare yellow butterfly over the swirling ocean pool of Church Cove; the translucent lace wings of a dragonfly resting on blackthorn with vivid green and yellow body paint; swallows in the Norman porch of St Winwallow swerving in and out of the rafters: or a host of chattering sparrows fluffing feathers in dust or appearing suddenly en mass from the hedgerow. This joy in movement, in flight, in being: the first  bitter- sweet taste of blackberries and the salty smell of  mackerel seas. Mother Ocean swirling and curling around serpentine rocks, spiralling me into a new trance of harmony and the realisation that here sitting in shorts and a vest top on hot rock and slipway, writing beside the sea is where I like to be and where I feel at peace with the sun browning my skin and the sun hypnotic on the surface of the water.

Here in this space at Church Cove there is an ancient magic of  peace. A stream bounces over green slime ledges slithering over lichen and slashed rock. The swell and surge of sea over blood  serpentine, the rhythmic pull of tides, the place of deep knowing, a cauldron of fishers' spells . I am aware of the dance around and within, as well as the wheel turning as the bone white stems of cow parsley are now fragile reminders of the passage of days into weeks and months as the wheel turns. The dragonfly rests and I am blessed with her queenly presence then in a flash, she flies; the swallows swoop toward me like arrows from heaven; and the yellow butterfly floats on the sweet breeze as I enter the lush depth of the cove, throwing my body into the sea swirling light to join the dance of tide and time .

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