Beauty is

Last night I lay in a bath enhanced by a Lush gift from my son, reading a beautifully written book gift from my cousin, and gave thanks for the very rare feeling of feeling cossetted by my family...

I give thanks for beautiful dreams - dreams in which I was captivated and moved by architecture and interior decoration, by light and weather and human endeavour. It was deepest winter and I was in an unusual hospital in New York that in dreamworld I'd seen on TV and recognised, and later worked out used to be a Liberty store which is why there were dark ornately carved staircases and exquisitely etched windows. I kept gazing at these wonders, and those I could see outside in a quaintly preserved neighbourhood and on a frosty river, exclaiming with delight and shedding the odd tear...and had some trouble convincing the staff I didn't have a mental health problem! 

I give thanks for having a bit of a sort out today. Some things are sorted and some things are still out, but the process is as satisfying as the result. I give thanks for realising actually there isn't a result, but only a process! I give thanks for unearthing an unfinished project almost as old as my blog...It's great to have it in view so that I may be moved to continue that process in a more obvious way than letting it languish in the back of a cupboard.

I give thanks for watching yachts race out of sight in distance and in darkness by the miracles of AIS and the internet. I give thanks for stillness on the sofa, snoozing and watching the leaf laden branches waving in the wind. The houses at the back have almost disappeared behind the trees now, but I don't mind - I like it when I see them and I like it when I don't...