marywilkinson's Blog

• Silence

  November 19, 2009

  • I wander through the house distracted by the unaccustomed peace that settles within the walls. I don't know why but it causes a certain unease in me, a vague distraction, a wonderment that this silence is what I always crave and yet, now that it is here, I struggle with what to do with it. I suppose I could reach up to dislodge the cobwebs and shake down the cushions or file away the ...
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• Jigsaw Puzzle Cows

  November 18, 2009

  • Melancholy day. Melancholy if you allowed it to be, if you allowed the sullen glob of sky, a heavy grey like substance squeezed from a tube, that is long past its expiry date, to penetrate and smother you with its dreary suffocating smear. And the fields around us have all  transformed into brown lakes, the result of the deluge in the past few days  and the poor bewildered cows, ...
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• Never say Never

  November 16, 2009

  • I am like a child again. Barefoot, I stand in the hallway beside a doorway in the middle of the night. I am eavesdropping on my parents' conversation. I should be in bed. My feet are cold, my nightgown too thin for the cold of the night that brings a chill through the door that hangs ajar. I listen. Nothing makes sense, their voices come low and speak only of an adult world.I am here too once ...
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• Wrapping up my Blog

  October 19, 2009

  • Where do I begin to begin to end? Why does it seem so difficult? Is it because I have been writing here on Red Room, for one long year now, on a daily basis, sometimes twice a day, whenever the fancy took me to jot down the moments that passed at Windsong, with my boys, the dogs, the garden,the hubby, the coffee pot, the clothes line, the grief, the regret, the longings, the sadness, the joys, ...
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• how it looks from the outside

  October 19, 2009

  • These days I have come to see that everything is temporary, that people are only shadows that exist for a short time until they dissipate like raindrops on a windowpane or sweetpea or whispers meant for only one and that quickly fall into the atmosphere to nothingness. A cascade of dust spores in an empty room - all fleeting. Why it's just the opposite to hearing the cuckoo in June, you count ...
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