Whispers and Wanderings

Thoughts on Grief, Hope, and the Seasons We Carry The sun crosses the equator at 1:05 am on 23 September 2026, bringing a fleeting moment of balance between day and night. (thanks Google).  For those of us living north of that invisible line, astronomical autumn will arrive, encouraging us to get out our jumpers and fluffy socks and whispering in our ear “Right then, snuggle up, let’s get comfy.” The Autumn Equinox is often a moment which passes me by unnoticed, but this time it seems determined to bring the year into perspective.  I usually save this kind of reflection for New Year’s Eve, when I’m armed with a glass of the red stuff and a list of unrealistic resolutions - usually to do with weight loss and doing more exercise. But, just lately, I’ve been living in my own private equinox.  My own inner seasons have been shifting and I find that I am looking back at everything that has passed while trying to imagine what the next chapter might hold for me. As many of you w...

I wheel out my mower beneath the sky, As small puffy clouds glide gently by. My lawn is small, not much to do, Just a few grassy lengths to push through. The motor hums; the world disappears, And I forget my night-time fears. The cut green grass breathes out its scent, And somehow all my cares are spent. Then comes the breeze, with naught to say, It kisses my skin, takes my worries away. Brushing my arms, and through my hair, A cool, clean current everywhere. It lifts the weariness from me, And leaves me lighter, glad and free. For just a moment, in that breeze, I feel much better; more at ease. The leaves whisper softly overhead, Reminding me of words unsaid. I guide the mower, turn once more, The same small patch I’ve mown before. At last I switch the engine off, And with one final whirring cough. The lawn lies neat, the air is clear, And all my cares just disappear.  It’s only grass, and summer air, Yet somehow peace has found me there. I wind the cable, put the mower away, Then...