Tuesday, 17 July 2012


this morning, early
when i walked out to feed the chooks
i looked up into the wintry geometry of the birch trees
of which there is a small copse which i planted 
when i first arrived, in honour of my father

(i remember standing on the veranda 
and throwing nine sticks into the air
then planting a birch in each spot they had landed)

this morning they offered me a gift
rows of clear pearl drops of rain
and each one reflecting the world around it
so many wortlds
so many stories

"there is no name for what i want to be when i grow up"


  1. i don't yet know what i want to be when i grow up
    but i do know that i love rainpearls and the magic number nine

  2. To be grown up means you never stop growing, you never stop gazing at the pearls and the raindrops, you never let your wonder die beside you.

  3. a beautiful photo , I love birches and love the idea of throwing sticks for random planting , I did that with daffodil bulbs many years ago. I hope you are recovering from the radiotherapy and that you may soon enjoy eating. you are in my thoughts, Judith

  4. oh, i have missed you! and this beautiful thing here: words and photos, well, thank you. i wish, too, that i could have attended your performance piece.