I was going to post about my beautiful weeping willow that two guys with chain saws took down on Saturday. It was a friend. It swept by my bedroom window. The golden glow of its buds, its new leaves, its bark coloured my room. My grandchild played house under its canopy. But it was false friend. I could trace a large root heading straight for my well. It had grasping , selfish ways. So now I have had it executed, and cut up to fuel a lobster boil this coming summer. When I see the stump, I grieve.
When I came to post this I found that I had posted 500 times - imagine! I started it by mistake. I was really trying to post a comment on someone else's blog and ended up creating one of my own. Writing a title off the top of my head was very optimistic. Dancing in the the holy circle really didn't describe the circles of despair that engulfed me at that time. The dance has proven to be an upward spiral. Thank you for joining it with me.
My son tells me that the name is really a misnomer and a cheat. He thinks that it attracts Pagans and Wiccans. Then it is really about renovating an old house, so it must be quite a let down. It has served me well. I dance while I plaster and paint and all the time spent just waiting to get back.
1 comment:
I love to come and dance in the Holy Circle (and I am not a Pagan or a Wiccan . . . silly son). This post is soooooo sweet. I didn't know of your beginning in bloggerdom -- a fortuitous accident, for me anyway. : D
Willows . . . how I love them; how greedy they become; how hard to let them go . . . but we must. I have had many willowish things in my life. Nice to know a bonfire for roasting lobsters waits in the wings for this particular case.
So glad you have danced in an upward spiral. I, too, know that dance -- it's heavenly! ; D
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