Notes From A Car Park





It rains.
Car park trees hemmed in, captive.
Symbolic of a lessened world?
If the roots go rogue, then what?
Dream of growing beans up the sides of the prisoner trees, of everyone planting and making car parks futile.
A power of fertility.

More rain, in spite of the blossoms and pretty leaf: autumn weather.
Under the copper beeches, light and water drops.
Nearly a rainbow.
The leaves are russet-rosé.
Under the copper beeches you can bathe in a sparkling pink
Raise a toast to autumn:
To future harvests.








Comments

  1. Dixie@dcrelief7 May 2015 at 04:00

    Reclaim the car park!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Jo7 May 2015 at 14:00

    Delightful pictures. I guess you are English as you say car park. I can't get my husband to stop saying that although we have been here for 40 years now.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lisa Southard7 May 2015 at 22:22

      Well spotted Jo, guessing you would say parking lot? :-)

      Delete
    2. Jo7 May 2015 at 23:51

      Well I would, hubby wouldn't. LOL

      Delete

Post a comment

Thank you for reading my words- my chance to read yours here:

Popular posts from this blog

Corona Creep Up

Image
Words From The Start Of Lockdown Life Mr looks to the future, it looks like hedges. Saturday March 14th 2020 On the drive to work I got bored of changing the windscreen wiper settings, then a little off-white spider raced around on the steering wheel. I blew it onto the dashboard but it jumped back. Cheeky spider. At work we are bored of coronavirus restrictions and bored at the prospect of it continuing. We don’t know anyone who has it. Supermarket shelves are missing toilet roll, dried pasta, as previously, now also tins of beans and tomatoes. There are travel bans and cancelled events. Last night I had to teach a non contact TKD session - no pads, no sparring, no hand shaking. I began my class with ‘first of all, please don’t breathe because that’s dangerous now.’ All of us are ‘meh’ about these restrictions. We understand that infection control is serious for the immune-compromised, we adhere to protocol for that reason. But the paranoia and boredom: meh. Monday March
Read more

Fun And Thievery

Image
All day marvellous words pour through my head to describe the sounds, sights, and scents of nature. This morning a light frost was laid out for our delectation, harming no flowers, stilting no birdsong. I have energy to get gardening, to plan, to write the novel, but daily life is scarcely reported upon in spite of how it describes itself to me. We are tentatively out of lockdown, allowed to meet outside in socially distanced groups of up to 6. We are allowed to teach outdoors, numbers limited by space, keeping a 2 metre gap between students (unless they are a family bubble). At home we have the gazebo set up with a picnic bench to host outdoor socialising. Internally we are weary, we are tattered lace on spindly side tables. Every little bit of rest like this morning’s coffee in bed is held onto as though I am stockpiling loveliness in order to survive. I am writing this to help ease that mentality. I would like to adjust out of isolation, I would like to be a light frost thawing
Read more

Three Letters To Grace

Image
Words On Love, Loss, And Grieving 21/5/2020 Dear Grace, I have said how your legacy is the small kind things; I have been noticing them more and more. It’s almost ridiculous, in a wonderful way, to be so taken by the pattern on a plate or how clever elastic is. I can’t stop making beautiful meals. Yesterday I woke up with the bravado to debone a turkey leg. It took awhile; regret was made fleeting by success. I feel like you know. That your light and care are here in everything and that’s why I am continually tuning in. The energy to transform everything is part of this, to celebrate our ordinary splendour. This has manifested into some minor furniture renovations and uncovered a leaking pipe under the bath. (I think we can fix it, I’ve put a cloth down for now to soak it up, left it open to dry out the floor and the rotted skirting board. The bath panel is outside meanwhile… should I paint it? Probably not…) This is the best of grief; the deep and peaceful loss, the fine example, yo
Read more