The Grace of The World

Greetings. I have been a bit more poorly than usual for a while, so please do bear with me if this post seems brief. All of our lives are in transition, and nothing exists but all that is becoming. Only the giver of grace is eternally motionless, yet waits far ahead of all that moves, in the silences of forever.

One of the nicest things I find about our community is the respect we share, and I wish for the happiest of futures to find their way fast to all our doorsteps.

These pics were taken today, at Kingsbury Water Park in the West Midlands, UK. Please enjoy.

Until next time, and may it be soon. Peace from Amras.

“When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be ……I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”

~Wendell Berry, “The Peace of Wild Things”

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Photography ©Amanda Moloney.


Let’s Hear it For The Good

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Rumours of spring are in the air, the winds have changed direction, crocuses grow unafraid in the garden, and my fellow bloggers are giving voice to seasonal optimism.

So, with all that in mind, and all things being equal, I decided to post more pics of winter.

Actually, these are the remaining pics from Scotland which I promised to post, and they’re of Luke’s riparian ramblings at Loch Ness.

While my computer has survived for another month, (though not for want of daily attention,) my health has demanded even more scrutiny than usual, and pain has slowed me down more these past weeks. Nevertheless, I hope sincerely that all my readers are happy, and faring physically as well as they may.

Anyways, I thought it would be a good time to make this declaration:

“Let’s hear it for the good”

Because we are, along with our peaceful sisters and brothers, the world over, coerced daily to hear it from the bad.

Wickedness notwithstanding, nothing lasts forever. Waves dip before they rise, and because all things must pass, it’s well to remember that *“For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave.”

Until next time, (speaking optimistically, as always) I wish all readers peace, and hope to return soon with more to share.



*From Robert Browning’s affecting poem “Prospice,”  which follows:


FEAR death?—to feel the fog in my throat,

  The mist in my face,

When the snows begin, and the blasts denote

  I am nearing the place,

The power of the night, the press of the storm,

  The post of the foe;

Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,

  Yet the strong man must go:

For the journey is done and the summit attain’d,

  And the barriers fall,

Though a battle’s to fight ere the guerdon be gain’d,

  The reward of it all.

I was ever a fighter, so—one fight more,

  The best and the last!

I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore,

  And bade me creep past.

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers

  The heroes of old,

Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life’s arrears

  Of pain, darkness and cold.

For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave,

  The black minute’s at end,

And the elements’ rage, the fiend-voices that rave,

  Shall dwindle, shall blend,

Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain.

  Then a light, then thy breast,

O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again,

  And with God be the rest!