This is the fourth and final week of The River Of Stones and writing my daily small stones to become part of the river. I have never done anything like this before and I have enjoyed the process of looking around me, taking more notice of my surroundings and finding something to write about. Each day I thought would be the day I wouldn't be able to do it but I have continually surprised myself. I only hope I have done justice to The River of Stones with my efforts. Thank you to Fiona and Kaspa from Writing Our Way Home for the inspiration.
I have read lots of other small stones in blogs and tweets and found them to be inspiring and interesting. I am amazed at such diverse topics we can all come up with. So here they are my final small stones although I hope to keep writing them in a journal. Normal service will be resumed next week.
Thanks for reading.
The smell of food cooking tantalises my taste buds .Chicken,onions and tomatoes all add to the aroma wafting from the kitchen. My daughter is the cook tonight and I sip wine and wait to be served.
My senses are invaded. I see muddy paws on the floor, black and grimy. I smell wet dog, earthy and woody. I touch soaking wet dog hair, it sticks to my fingers as I dry him. I taste, rich fruity wine as it explodes on my taste buds. My reward for cleaning up.
The grass in the garden is sparse. Black mud has replaced the green lawn. The dog's paws squelch as he wades through it. Even he must yearn for dry summer days and new fresh soft green grass beneath him.
I raise a glass to oor ain Rabbie, poet extraordinaire. He wrote of bonnie lassies, of roses and a mouse. He even went to church one Sunday and wrote about a louse.
The sky is white and heavy with snow. It mesmerises me as it falls like fluffy balls of candy-floss that disappear when they touch the ground. No snow men will be built today.
A crescent moon shines in the night sky, it is so close I can see his smiley face.One solitary star, his companion until morning dawns.
Today I take notice of the photographs that surround me, each one evokes a memory of a loved one. They make me smile as I remember. Some have the power to bring tears but only because I want to relive the moment captured on film once more.
A child's giggle.His pleasure in the simple things.A cardboard box, a wooden spoon, my shoes.
A freezing, frosty morning and I can see the hills in the distance have a covering of snow but the sun is shinning offering hope that spring is around the corner.
For my final stone I choose the stillness of the early morning, the muted colours of the sky, the quietness that surrounds me and the anticipation of a brand new day.