It has been wonderful to share with you, reading your comments and being drawn to visit your own blogs too, over almost a year.
You have encouraged me to start a book, and so these posts won’t be the same any more. I can’t keep posting excerpts as in my last post because the writing has suddenly become a more complex process, though its inspiration is just as spontaneous. I can’t give up wanting to spend this time together.
Today I took photos of blossoms. In the Seventies the persistent question came to me: is it possible to receive love from a book? If so, this is the kind of book I want to read, and also write. I’ve never told anyone that till today. It seemed too silly. Yesterday, out walking, I delved further in a quest to rid myself of preconceptions. Does the homeless drunk receive love from his alcohol? From within me came the immediate answer “Of course!” Then came another question: “Where does this love come from?” I felt that this was an intelligent question, one that needs no answer, for the asking is enough.
Why do people give one another flowers? Blossoms speak to us and give generously of their essence, though according to biology they are designed to further the plant’s objectives by attracting bees. Blessing us with their presence does nothing for their evolutionary purpose so far as I can see. Bouquets from the florist are as nothing compared with the blossoms offered to the lonely wayfarer. But as Davo points out, Spring is not common to all places in the world. Here in England Spring needs no spiritual festival to proclaim its meaning. Wherever you live, Love as celebrated so devotedly by Serenity and indeed all of us, in our own way, finds a way to reach us, even if we have been reared by wolves.
Yesterday I was intrigued by a plant which had forced its way up through a section of asphalt pavement, though there was no evidence of it on the soft soil alongside. It’s horsetail, an ancient species whose fossil remains are found in coal seams from the age of dinosaurs. It propagates by spores instead of seeds, like lichens and fungi.
a wayfarer’s notes 
love you too Vincent. be like the horsetail plant. rise up even from the asphalt world.
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Hullo! We are similarly smitten… The Hindu term for worship – Puja -is derived from Tamil, from the word for flowers (“poo”). To offer flowers, is puja, or worship. To BE the flower that is offered.
I am being captivated by NATURE in my city. I am beginning to feel the love manifest in nature's effects on my city.
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Horsetail is a wonderful plant! A local park has a circle adjacent to the parking area….. half in the parking space, half surrounded by the concrete walkway that soon gives way to gravel. It's a good 10 feet across, and by mid-summer the horsetail is a magnificent 6-7 feet high. It's the only place I've seen it used as a garden plant.
hope you continue to post flowers and thoughts now and then – but understand the need to keep your writing separate. love to you, Vincent….
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Vincent, it has (fer a dingbat isolationist)been a pleasure to read yer writings.
May the rest of the planet continue, and may we continue to listen to gentle musings.
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I believe it is possibe to receive love from almost everything.
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Nice photos. Plants that squeeze up through pavement – their combination of toughness and beauty – have always intrigued me too, even when I was a kid.
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Do you envision your book carrying your photography too? I really enjoy how you almost mystically blend text with images. Or maybe down to earth is more fitting than mystical. Either way, it always strikes a chord.
Best wishes as you forge ahead with the book.
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Vincent,
My heart admittedly sings to think of you putting words to paper formally so that your expression may find its way to the nooks and crannies of the world…and to wish to write a book of love…a word that can carry a heavy burden and a lot of baggage for all that it evokes in the minds and hearts of readers…but love…worth our devotion, our contemplation always, our respect paid to it in all its nuances and complexities. The timing for such a book is perfect, and your wisdom in seeing love as something deeply layered in complexity, not merely a sentimental emotion, inspires me and lifts my heart in jubilation. I cannot wait to read your words on a printed page. Be encouraged, and know always that you are loved.
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