It’s evening !

When the boats go home,

When the sheep fail to roam,

Why,that’s the time to head for home,

If it’s been a lazy Sunday,or a frantic one,

Home welcomes us from the activity ,the “to do list”

So,evening ushers quiet thoughts,reflective musings,

It offers us emotional shade from being on show,

Throw your cares of tomorrow away in the music of your youth,

To tell you the truth,it’s the only one that speaks to you,

So,happy evening ,happy reclining,

Oh,for the love of the evening!

My Passage to Saltash.

This holiday scene ,this estuary ,with Cornwall on one side,and Devon in the other gives off an air of peace,punctuated by the Paddington to Penzance railway snaking its way through this lush Cornish countryside.Today,the line seems busier than it was when I was a child with special event trains from the bygone era of stream running today,along with the regular service.When I was a child,the railway was my gateway out of the county to London ,and it provided me with an escape to more of a cultured existence.

Each train journey that was made,seemed to broaden my horizons,and so this mode of transport has a special place in my heart,as it does in so many others.Nowadays,where I live in the south of the country,we are apt to complain about the service offered for those using the rail system,but when I was a child,it seemed a marvel of the modern world.Even if it’s now considered by some an overpriced and overcrowded mode of transport,it still has a charm that attracts me,and it remains my favourite of all forms of travel.This line weaves in and around the unmovable structures of the geography of the area,traversing by means of its many viaducts,numerous valleys.As Cornwall doesn’t have that many branch lines -the beaching cuts of the 60s seeing to that-the main line is the hub of the whole Cornish network.These trains glide along the countryside allowing for pa oramic vistas of the Cornish countryside and for many,the journey is an intergral part of the holiday.

Today,the sight of a stream train racing down the line just out of Plymouth towards Bodmin Road was a wonderful sight .When I saw it,it was at nearly full steam ,cutting through the countryside,queen of all it surveyed.You have to pinch yourself in these moments,because they can fly by quickly if you do not capture them afresh in your consciousness.

Walking adjacent to the line today was quite a wonderful thing,as I felt that I could appreciate the line for what it is.I didn’t need to have that ambition to get away from the county of my birth,but I could just observe the trains as they did their stuff,their work,and it was quite a highlight around the passage at Saltash.

Holiday quiet!

It’s quiet here where I am,not much in the way of activity,

Seagulls chatter t the lack of chips and ice-cream requesting a transfer to St Ives,

Each motor boat in the estuary does water tricks,one,I think is called:””The Corkscrew”

Time to sit,to see the birds,the ones that prey on fish and lobster and eels.

Finding sense in the Now

Each day brings an energy ,a pulse as it were to stamp its authority on each period.As the sun rose here in the Dorset town where I live,the winds started to blow,to do their stuff,to capture my sleepy attention,to wake me up from my slumber.

It’s almost a mini gale force out there this morning,quite a change for an August day,and I wonder just how the young people will manage to get out there and enjoy themselves.Its a truth,I suppose,that the elements have always played a huge part in life as I know it.As a child,the Cornish winds,buffeting me as I waited to walk to school along the Goss Moor,to my primary school,now a converted industrial unit.My mother insisting that I held unto my sisters hand ,even though I was 8 of 9 kind of fuelled my need toe like every other boy.However,I realised that I wasn’t,that I loved classical music even then at that tender age.Also,I liked the stories that were read to me.

One of my Pils told me that she loved a story that her mum read to her this week,and in a memory recall,I was taken back to my English teacher who read stories to our class,and it was oh so comforting.It was a cycle that I broke when I had children ,to read to them each night just like my sister read to me until she got ill.

These memories,just like the weather,signify to me that you have to grasp things when they are there ,because you never know when they might be taken away from you.

So,today,I’m embracing the lofty Dorset wind,holding the hands of my life’s memories,using those experiences,being grateful for everything that I now have,knowing that life is good.

As I have a day with my son,home from his job in Europe,I have much things to discuss ,much happy times to remember.He sings in the house you know,he’s good,very good,and that brings life to the home,vibrancy,and joy.

To conclude,this is me,right off the bat,but I wanted to share my muse now here from Dorset.

Hoping that you have moments that you will look back on from today that bring you joy too.

Trying to put a price on giving of yourself,your time,your energy,your experience can,and is,a difficult thing to do.When all is said and done,whatever we can do for others is always better done with a pure motive.Yes,it’s true that non of us can honestly say that what we do is always totally altruistic,but when we strive to give of ourselves in a positive way ,it can,and does,make a difference to others.

Today,people have made a profound difference to my life by just being there.Yes,while it’s true hat many possess qualities that I marvel at,they the,selves wouldn’t picture themselves in that arena of excellence,however,I do.As I meditate on what others do for me,I am in awe of others and what they can do.

This level of giving means that I can energise myself for life again tomorrow,and it means that I’m better equipped to carry on with a more positive outlook on life.While it’s true that we all should strive to manifest this positive attitude,it’s so much better when others have that knack in f just listening ,or saying the thing that makes us really get the point.Im a very emotional man,of that I’m well aware,and I often think in an emotional way,which,of itself,isn’t necessarily wrong.However,if that were my exclusive decision toolbox,then I know that I might flounder from one crisis to another.So,through the spoken word,the written words of sages and those around me with a far more wise head,I find myself being drawn to the sensible magnetic North direction,avoiding those hidden granite rocks under that Atlantic coastal shore as I sail into my safe emotional port,and free from those emotional storms that we all face.

Of course,many might feel that they don’t need guidance from anyone,that they are somehow impervious from hiccups in life.That said,I feel that when we have a stock take of some of the things that we do,without the wisdom of others,the guidance that they bring,we surely would be in quite a mess at times.So,tonight,on this rather stormy August night,I’ve taken a stock take of the emotional escapes that have allowed me to achieve a more buoyant life,a more rounded life.

If I write in a way that appears too emotional,then maybe this blog isn’t for you,but I am interested in the interdependence that I feel we all need,that resistance of “emotional Island status” sent a default that I would prescribe too.Asking for advice is,to me,not a sign of weakness,but is a strength.Manifesting ethical fortitude is a salient characteristic that should be a benchmark of all teachers.

Today,I’ve sought help,I’ve learnt ,I’ve grown by admitting that I need help.

Maybe you might have found this blog of some help.Thank you for your patience in despifoning my terrible spelling .

Kernowman .

When the rain comes down!

It starts ,it continues,repeat repeat repeat,

Never knows when to stop,to stop,to stop,to stop,

Rain does that,it has a mind of its own,

No respect to creed or colour though,

It rains on us all,whoever we are,

Saw a mum walk past this morning in the rain,

Such a shame for her,she looked stressed,

Her little children weren’t to blame,they aren’t a pain,

Still,it’s a shame when we are rained on,

Some of my best days have been spent in the rain,

So memories of standing in a shallow cave on Towan beach,sheltering,

So shelter if you can,love yourself from the hailstones of life,

Get out there in the rain,it’s not really a pain.

Good day all.