Monday, 30 September 2013

what september brings

This afternoon I took a moment to look back on September, a month of changing light and incredible bursts of colour. Every day brought something different to my world, a morning view shared before I made my way into a new challenge with fresh eyes and hope in my heart.

Here's my month as it descended on each new morning, my first thoughts captured and then sent to Twitter before I had a chance to analyse or think or begin to try to change what was there in front of me. Hope your days were memorable and creative, too.

Sun: the breath of wagging tails swirls & rusting leaves dance, stepping out on a path of beauty, the last melody before the gaping sleep.

@MargotMcCuaig 2 Sep

Mon: wind pushes into the sky like ivy climbing a chimney breast. A gull catches the swirl in its throat & glides, the morning call piercing

Tue: clouds roll across a low sky & leaves shiver in its gentle breeze, a bird dances on trembling bark & glides into the shadow of morning.

Wed: the sky is silent & yet little puffs of watery mascara float in the distance, the smoky tears of an angel washing her sadness in morning

Thur: rowan fruit sheaths morning like strong hills on the horizon, flaming stillness seeping into low grey sky & washing it in pink promise

Fri: trees stand still less they break the silence of morning, a late summer bloom watches, waist deep in soil, head bowed in self-doubt.

Sat: a gull cuts a shadow on the chimney breast & the misty sky watches it dance across time, a hidden message in a story long forgotten.

Sun: a dog's bark glides the sky, its rafting twang stealing presence like a child discovering Christmas, its gravity captured in a smile.

Mon: beyond the naked eye misty rain gathers effortlessly in fluffy clouds, its presence pulsing like yesterday's brightly falling stars.

Tues: a cloud tumbles from the sky like an anchor & morning catches it in broad arms that swim in the shallows diverting the onset of rain.

Wed: polished wings brush sky, feathers sweeping openness with artist's grey, the colour of a universe washed clean & left to dry in the sun

Thur: the scent of autumn rain hangs like fabric, entwined clouds part & sway, an audience that whistles like sweet music in a careless sky.

Fri: tall trees brush the clouds in autumnal green, the sun, bright & yellow, pulls back & glows a virginal white, beaming fresh, new sky.

Sat: streetlights glow defiantly against a dawn sky, shadows of wise old trees wink knowingly in the direction of the collision of morning.

Sun: raindrops kiss the window, the merging day pulsing in translucent drops that capture night & breaking dawn in a kaleidoscope of colour

Monday: an angel's tear spills silently, its passage captured by a passing bird that mimics its shadow & tumbles to the earth like a stone.

Tue: a silvery hue threads unexpectedly through swaying branches, the flood of a new day catching the solitude of distant stars by surprise

Wed: the low light of morning glistens on east facing windows, the shadows of tumbling autumn dancing like butterflies on its projection.

Thur: misty rain polishes pavements & the morning preens itself in its reflection, a magpie with liquorice wings gathers its secrets & flees

Fri: leaves sigh & part, tumbling like feathers, too slight to imprint the sodden grass yet bold enough to make bended branches & sky weep.

Sat: silence earths on washed pavements that glisten in patches of promise, their secrets whispering in the throats of passing gulls

Sun: branches bend & leaves tremble & tumble, folds of green & yellow dancing under a blanket of morning rich with silence & hidden light.

Mon: crisp white sky hangs like wet cotton sheets on a still day, the breath of passing birds singing in hearts anchored in yesterday.

Tues: night lingers, its hue pressing hard into the shadows. A spider's web gleans from within the silence, morning embracing the distance.

Wed: soft breeze circles the skyline & falling leaves crumble under nature's sweeping palms, gathering like tombstones on thickening grass.

Thu: sky falls in milky brightness, the frothy top of morning kissing trees, its sap seeping into mystic roots that swallow summer's pulse.

Fri: morning drops from heaven in a solemn cloud, still breath hushed, its smoky grey settling calmly among the silent, uncertain leaves.

Sat: White cotton ripples on blue sky like the ebb tide on morning sea. A blackbird bobs in its vast waters, preening its majestic shadow.

Sun: day mimics summer & sun kisses an unsuspecting sky. Birds stop & stare, wings still & throats silent as they soar into the husky chorus

Mon: pink angels embrace pale blue sky & the world falls silent, the miaow of a cat swallowed by the darkest hour strolling nonchalantly by.



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