Inspiration, moustaches, passports, a walk in the field…
What a funny few days…I have just been in a great mood, and full of mischief and a tricksy type of humour. That feeling of life being fun. It’s fall, so maybe that is it. Or maybe the few things/people that I have been following online that have made me giggle. Moustaches have been an especial cause of the giggles.
I feel all itchy toes and dreams of adventures. Not that I have anything particular in mind at the moment, but I am going about getting my passport. Somehow the idea that I cannot leave the country if I wanted to now irks me, That if I wanted to fly to Paris, like my ever recurring airplane dream, I could not. Not that I would, or could, on a whim, fly to Paris – but the idea that if something incredible presented itself that I would not be able to… It irks me. So the passport ordeal. What a pain in the butt it is to get a passport. I have to find somebody who has known me for at least 2 years and has had their own passport for 5 years to vouch for the fact that I am actually me. Sounds like it might be easy, except for the fact that I don’t think I know anybody who has a passport. So now I have to go through the (not very extensive actually) list of people on this tiny island who I have actually met and would say that they have known me for at least 2 years, and see if any of them do in fact have a passport. frustrating. But worthwhile in the end.
Just when I worry that I will have no more nifty things to work on, another few tumble into my lap and suddenly I have a very busy few weeks ahead of me. Which is good. I thrive on this constant pace, the birth of new ideas, the buzz of seeing them come to fruition…and then back to the beginning. And oh, the beginning is the best. That sense you have of a new thing stirring just below the surface of consciousness, like a seed, an unseen quiver before the sprout emerges green and reaching towards the sun.
Last night I took Miss Molly ma Gog (my ever loyal Lab) for a walk way out back through the meadow and the hayfield. I will have to get some pics of the hayfield and post them. It is absolutely stunning with the vivid green of the mown grass with the stark barrels of the haybales scattered randomly over the rolling hill. And then how the field suddenly hits the corn rows, a solid impenetrable wall of corn at least 8-9 feet tall.
I was super brave last night – the sun was setting and casting ruddy pink twilight shadows everywhere – and I just slipped into the corn. Stepped several rows in and walked down them like a great living corridor. But then the breeze would blow, just a little, just enough to rustle the corn stalk leaves. And then I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise as I remembered horror movies of my youth and quickly departed back to the (relative) safety of the mown hayfield. And then had a snicker at myself. I was gone maybe only 45 minutes – but what a walk! I picked a large woody weed and brandished it like a sword in front of me, to and fro, whacking spiderwebs out of my path, and feeling like a child…I ran, and laughed, and stood still as well – just breathing in the field, the scent of crushed grass and ripening apples…
A parting moustachioed pic that made me laugh today….
