High above the river Dart the beautiful face of the moon breathes a silver ribbon through the valley below.
When it is full moon I sometimes need to stand in what is now Sharpham meadows. In moments of solitude, the river and the moon and the water and the hills can connect me to a deeper surface of life.
Today we have been a loving group of friends, celebrating the
preciousness of life and friendship: sharing poetry, letters, music, songs and blessings and afterwards I was inspired to go up there and stand again in the beaming moon to hear her sing.
Tonight a little folky tune has grown out of my recent foraging among other melodies and unexpectedly a new piece of music has shone its way onto the page… plus some gorgeous scrunchy chords.
The Dart, exquisite in wintry sunrise the other morning… (but it was too cold for pipers!)