Boat And Box

 

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Hello dear readers,  the above pics were taken some days ago. Because I am incapable of leaving my room for more than a few minutes at a time, my two favourite photographers take their cameras, (in this case, iPhones,) and share with me images from their walks as they go along. This gives me a sense of what it feels like to be out there. The last few weeks have been especially difficult, but I hope to gain a little mobility when the weather stays warm. Then I will venture into our garden, and sit beneath the blossoming magnolia tree again.

For now, I hope you like the pics, and I hope to return with something new to share; sooner rather than later.

Namaste from Amras.

 

“The wisest Spirit would not affirm dogmatically the point in which matter ends and Spirit begins.” ~ Chico Xavier.

Photography ©Amanda Moloney.

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On Dark Waters of Isis

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Namaste, and greetings dear readers. Last month, our son, Luke, took these pics while boating on the Thames.  London seemed bluer than usual that day; nothing unusual about the rain though. Luke took these on his iPhone. The “UFO” over the battleship is only a reflected lamp. (Pity.)

I hope to return soon, and I wish you all a very happy day. Amras.

 

Dark is the world to thee; thyself art the reason why,
For is He not all but thou, that hast power to feel “I am I”?
Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

 

Photography ©Luke Moloney.

On the Twelfth Day

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On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, I thought you’d like to see,

*Our New Year local jubilee.

Greetings, I hope the New Year is one of promise for everyone.  My sincere thanks to all followers and likers, for looking in. Together, may we keep on blogging, thus linking our corners of this wonderful world, with friendship and respect.

Namaste from Amras.

Photography ©Francis Moloney.

* Instead of a dozen plangent percussionists.

On The Roof

But yet Happy Lonely

In the 1970’s, I left the suburbs for a while, to live close to the inner-city hospital where I worked.  No more green hills or tall trees in the park for me. I missed them. Far away, in a gap between tall buildings, stood a distant hill.  A sliver of green to keep me connected to the living land beneath me. This particular hill, as it happens, was used by the ancestors as a beacon of light to relay important news across the land. Therefore I also felt connected to the ground via time.

One night, I utilised a torrential downpour to partake of a free shower on the roof. Armed with a towel, and a bar of soap, I learned just how heavily polluted the city rain was. It took days to scrape the tarry filth off of me.

My ordnance survey map suggested that my flat was built over a ley-line.  It must have been charmed, because there was an amateur repair job visible on the ceiling where a German bomb had fallen through; and luckily didn’t explode. I knew the lady who slept in the room the night it happened.  Brave folk. How inspiring, the courage of our forebears in that war, and yet, how very sad, the scars that were seared into their souls, and which our generation inherited, and is still striving to process.

So, on a night when it wasn’t raining, I took one of the above photographs through a window, and the other from the roof, using my old Zenith SLR, and good old Kodachrome ASA/ISO 25, f-stop forgotten, but probably a 30 second exposure. Please excuse my archaic camera-speak.  When I showed the original slides to a favoured uncle, he suggested that they convey a sense of loneliness, yet somehow, contentment; and I felt understood.

This is an amusing memory of mine, one frozen night in February 1980, a disgruntled businessman, sacked from one of the offices I lived above, set fire to the building. I spent the morning standing in the frozen street, wearing only a dressing gown and slippers, a budgie cage in one hand, and a terrified dog in the other, while coughing from smoke inhalation, and responding with facts to the pointed and leading questions of a racially* aggressive CID officer. The house was saved, the perpetrator caught, and my flat stank. After that, I returned to the suburbs.

Although the old building that contained my flat was pleasant and ornate, it was demolished, and replaced with something big, commercial, expensive, and ugly.  Another great day for the greedy ones I dare say. Oh, and just to rub salt into the public wounds, three local hospitals were sold off to commerce too.

At least nowadays we understand how wickedness operates in society.

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Amras has been beset with many health issues of late, the cold season is particularly difficult, and we have received strong negative greetings from one who would wish us sorrow. The blind may be leading the blind, but how very sad it truly feels to watch our brothers and sisters lashing out from darkness.  Forgiveness is a given made in advance, it is only ourselves with whom we need struggle when such a storm passes on by.  Sometimes with silence is the most loving way to reply.

When I started writing this post, moments ago, the wintery sunshine filled my room. Now, suddenly day has become night, wind become rain, then sleet became snow.  And so now it’s time to shut the curtains, until tomorrow.  I hope you enjoyed this read. Thank you for reading my posts, and for writing yours for me to read.

If I am unable to post again before the holy solstice, have a blessed time, and enjoy the cosmic performance. Namaste from Amras Arcamenel.

 

 

*It was neither popular nor profitable to be an Irishman around these parts back then.

Photography ©Francis Moloney.

At The Limit

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Greetings, I start by  apologising for the poor quality of these pics. They were taken at the limit of the digital zoom that I was using, through a window. The reason I am sharing though, is to celebrate the signs of the times; and an ‘Indian Summer’ that is just coming to its end.

Recently, I tweeted ‘There was never a September so lovely, as has just passed. And now, one full week into October, I can still see butterflies at my window!’

For myself, I am very grateful for the unexpected state of meteorological clemency, which since August, we Brits have enjoyed. (We must have done something good!)

So, please enjoy the pics for what they are, a celebration of something good.

Why I feel so strongly about butterflies, is because I remember the decades when they were a rare sight in our lands. During my youth this saddened me. In the early ’70s, I counted up to none for a couple of years running. Their numbers though, have been recovering for decades. I have, however, never counted as many of these bright, elusive creatures as have been flitting happily around us here since August.

Can anyone remember that fantastic Dutch crop circle* from 2009? Kudos to the folk who constructed that one, it was very clever, (I suspect a zeitgeist is involved with the making of these things.)

With that, I bid you peace, and the blessing of an informed and rational optimism. Namaste from **Amras Arcamenel.

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We can easily forgive a child for being afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light. ~ Plato

 

*http://www.colinandrews.net/2009-ButterflyMan-Netherlands.html

**Amras being the name of an elf, and Arcamenel, meaning ‘Pray to Heaven’. from Tolkien’s Quenya, an elvish language.