...because this truly does not look as good as it did when I was there.
This is a little corner of a large field where I often 'run' with the dog. This space, one summer, was 'our' space - where I did yoga or meditated or had a picnic or read a book. People might walk by, so what? It's next to a public footpath. But this was 'our' space, sequestered, if not secluded.
As I ran there the other day, feeling not great, I saw the little blue flowers in the grass and just stopped, caught. Green, so much green. And blue in sparkles to match the sky visible between the leaves. And it was like my eyes rested and my mind rested with just the looking at the colour and the colour and the colour.
Now, it's raining. The clouds leach colour from the earth. Outside is less appealing. Wet shoes, wet socks, wet leggings. Mud and the dog shaking himself every few minutes.
But maybe I can think my mind into that green space. Ah! It reminds me of Andrew Marvell's poem, 'The Garden'. He wrote:
The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find, Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that’s made To a green thought in a green shade.
Yes. Green thoughts. Green, green thoughts, in my green, green place.
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