Today contained a period of very special moments: that rare occasion when the universe stitches a few hours together with a thread made from infinity herself; an afternoon where eyes could feast upon the unfathomable richness of the purest azure sky.
Heaven and earth pulsed achingly close to one another, as Nature dropped one of her many veils just enough for us to glimpse a sight of something intangible; something that is normally too rich for our mortal souls to comprehend.
Such was the purity of the sky, that the presence of the moon could be labelled a blemish; but to do so would be inaccurate and undeniably wrong. Hung there in the gin-clear sky, this lunar presence punctuated the sky and cut straight through to our very souls.
In a few more days, this moon will realise its natural progression and become March’s Worm Moon, so called because of the warming temperatures and the gradual appearance of earthworm casts. Gazing up at this celestial wonder, my own significance feels much like that of the humble earthworm: infinitesimally insignificant and yet connected to an infinitely bigger equilibrium.
My senses only perceive the vivacious blueness of the infinite sky: the greens and browns beneath my feet pale into insignificance, as my eyes are drawn upwards in reverence.
Much like the moon, my daughter also punctuates this landscape. Wild, determined and free, she weaves her own story into the fabric of the landscape. Her unbridled independence and love for being both outdoors, and inside this moment, tug at the very fibres of my being.
A gust of wind quickly turns thoughts of the mind into feelings of the flesh. Far from an icy interloper, the cold assaults the senses and heightens the feeling of being truly alive.
My daughter stands stock still and stares at the moon. I watch her for a few moments and capture these visceral moments as a visual photograph.
A Seasoned Soul. 