YesterdayI learned from a friend that our town, Redruth, is twinned with Mineral Point in Wisconsin, USA! We knew that many Cornish hard rock miners emigrated to the states to take their much needed skills and I did a lot of research into that when I was part of the Perthi Kov team putting together our stories from St Euny graveyard for Until the Day Break. I think Wisconsin will have to be on our next US trip, whenever that can be. I wonder if any of my dear Readers are in Wisconsin. That would be really cool!
Our supermarket delivery came tonight. We have croissants for tomorrow’s breakfast!
I am not alone among my friends in having the odd wobble emotionally during this strange period in all our lives and I send my love out there to any of my readers also feeling the strangeness. The following poem of Mary Oliver’s captures the essence of what we all need to do. Go out and sing!
The following poem by Maya Angelou came my way today in remembrance and honour of Ruth Bader Ginsburg who died two days ago. She will be so greatly missed.
When Great Trees Fall – Maya Angelou
When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety.
When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe, briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken.
Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us. Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened. Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away. We are not so much maddened as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves.
And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us: They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.
We have finished the painting and have put the trellis back in place. Next comes the planting after we have replaced all the soil.
We had tickets tonight for the latest WildWorks show, Meet me at the Edge, to be played out, socially distanced at Botallack. Sadly, it was cancelled on Friday as new Covid rules came into play that the National Trust have to abide by. Instead, the whole wonderful thing was live-streamed and we watched from home. It was so moving and beautifully done. You can watch if you’d like to. I recommend it if you can find an hour.
Our government tells us that in a few days, because of the Coronavirus, they will tell the over 70s that in a few weeks they should self isolate to protect themselves. With a warning like that, we and many of our friends are already self isolating. However, we are very lucky because we live outside the town and can walk out of our front door to be straight into the countryside . We can also drive to the coast and walk along in the beauty of our Cornwall where there are other walkers but no-one close by which was what we did this afternoon along a short stretch of the South West Coastal path.
Daffodils along the roadside
The view from the path towards Chapel Porth and Porthtowan
Looking out to rocks from the cliffs at St Agnes Beacon – Does anyone local know the name?
On Radio 4 this morning, we were being advised that laughter is the best medicine and that, just as we should be eating 5 a day fruit and veg, we should be finding 5 things a day to make us feel good. I might have to upgrade MBT to 5 a day when I can.
It is Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s birthday. We first learned of her when she was a much admired Law Professor at Columbia University School of Law in New York, USA. My brother was in her classes. Happy Birthday!
“Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Associate Justice of the US Supreme Court (b. 15 Mar 1933)
My lovely Sister-in-law sent me a photo of the Cherry trees at the end of their road in Atlanta and I thought I would share it.They have had lots of rain there too and the rain-beaten blossom lies on the ground as a colourful carpet.
Last week was Random Acts of Kindness week. Every week should be as this Peanuts cartoon suggests.
An afternoon of resting, reading and Jelly Babies!
Who knew that Oak trees have catkins? I didn’t. I knew about acorns, of course, but didn’t have any to add to my glass Oak tree. Little beads to mimic catkins, now, that I could do!
Our Niece-in-law who lives in Olympia near Seattle is a poet. She has given me permission to share this very powerful piece with you, with her introduction.
“Here’s an old thing I wrote in an attempt to talk about the racial injustices that consistently hurt everyday people and I want to share it again on what would have been Sandra Bland’s 33rd birthday.
I hope one day for a better world. It starts with you and me. Let’s remember people like Sandra Bland, Tamir Rice and Michael Brown and Philando Castile and continue to speak their names so that people who wish to cheapen their precious lives will know that we do not, will never, stand with them.”
A Cleveland child’s melanin was Just enough Cause for murder- Cold blood under the warm sun. Six million dollars will not be enough to sook his mother’s ache, You can’t tell her this was an honest mistake.
A man had his breath pressed out of his lungs On a live stream, on a street corner, The world watched him beg for his life.
She was from Waller County, a pin drop on a map That’s now a black hole void where precedence discards prudence. Where a woman can be detained at a traffic stop, Found hanged in a jail cell, and forgotten.
A Fort Worth teen plead guilty to assaulting a mentally challenged child. Cold concrete, wire hanger, steel locker, chipping paint Are the canvas onto which he scrawled the slurs, the acid words and acrid variations of the Purity of Hate in America.
He served no jail time, It wasn’t a hate crime.
A small town in Michigan runs on brown water, Their babies have rashes and their hair is falling out. Never mind lead poisoning causes death and developmental delay- Those kids have bed rolls over at Genesee,
You see, They are pre-enrolled in the prep school for slavery, The cops will let them know when it’s their time to go.
Their mamas smoke foil and rise above the pain- Flesh of womb claimed commodity before the cord stops pulsing Gaslighted by the streetlights which always blink red and blue.
If five white teens went missing from the nation’s capital, the whole world would mourn and wring their People magazines Until their salty fingers all had sliver on sliver of papercuts. Would put out a special on dateline NBC with a reward for any information that might lead to their discovery.
Tomorrow is a smog cloud, Tomorrow no one is safe.
On January 1, 1943, the American folk music legend Woody Guthrie jotted in his journal a list of 33 “New Years Rulin’s.” Nowadays, we’d call them New Year’s Resolutions. Adorned by doodles, the list is down to earth by any measure. Family, song, taking a political stand, personal hygiene — they’re the values or aspirations that top his list. For a clearer view, you can click here to view the list.
My favourites are No’s 13,14, 19, 31 and 33. I wonder which ones you favour. Happy days to you all.
Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends, family and readers across the pond.
After singing this morning, I was delighted to see a Robin on the decking just outside the door of the cafe, Muddy Beach, where we all go for coffee and a catch-up.
After coffee time, I walked up through Penryn to call in at the gallery, Fannie&Fox, with my new work as there is a re-hanging today. Outside there is an enormous beech tree with some masts still hanging on. There are Christmas trees along the streets (but too soon to show such things!) and it seemed as if Nature had left her baubles hanging on the tree.