Sky in motion

Still finding gems of inspiration in Jilly’s Jim Harrison quotes. This one is

“On some clear nights in the country the stars can exhaust us” 

Image ©Zach Dischner

1024px-Starry_Night_(4828962598)

Nights full of stars and the sounds of the dark and the smells, cooling and winding from deep-cupped blooms, unfurl around our day-pale faces. The ear is filled full as the sea, with the snip-snap and rustlings of furtive life. Strained eyes see only the lack of light and shrouded shadows beneath the trees. But in the sky, in the brilliant vastness of the overarching sky is strung out the lightshow of the universe. Songs of silence glitter where the friendly chattering blue was spread. Untuned our ears and unfocused our eyes, the Dog Star draws us skywards, heads tilted back in wonder, into the tireless dance. About our feet, mice patter, while fox watches and waits for us to blunder on our way.

 

Dark breeze, wash and hiss

of night trees rocked by the tide—

we wade through starlight.

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

26 thoughts on “Sky in motion”

      1. The house we’re selling. We’re in the limbo between the first document of sale being signed and the definitive act of sale. In France it takes months, and in months stuff starts to fall apart that you feel duty bound to mend. Like the toilets. The house in the countryside is so basic that it even has a toilet is a miracle. I use pics of it on my blog. The photos without a credit are mine. I’ll see if I can track down some posts with photos of the house. It’s set more or less in the middle of the land. Here’s one looking east.
        https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/2016/10/12/a-new-aim-in-life/

      2. That’s our Finbar. Fascinated and a bit terrified by what’s out there. The time this sale is taking, we have had plenty of time to get cold feet, have regrets…and break lots more things.

      3. It’s the kind of godsend subject that I know a lot of people would jump at—how I was ripped off by terrible but incredibly funny French builders—but I can’t do it. I hate those ‘hilarious’ novels that are intended to poke fun at the French/Italians/Spanish, but usually French. They usually just show the pig ignorance and arrogance of the expatriate Brit who thinks she/he can bring a bit of the Home Counties to rural France and thereby improve it beyond recognition.

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