Friday, 19 August 2011

Reverie..

There's something about hearing the rumble of an aircraft when you're soaking in the bath in the summer.  Somehow the droning of the engines seems to hypnotise thoughts and gazing through the window towards a pearly sky I am suffused with feelings of languor and heart's ease.
Outside existing time seems stretched, swimmingly, smoothly.  I could be elsewhere.
In a garden of my childhood beneath shadowy trees, espying swallows swooping, swirling, drowsily hearing sheep bleating, and the rising falling 'peep-peep' of the swallows call as they fish the balmy air.
Or with unalloyed happiness sitting at a table in Bryant Park, New York, under a sunny lemon umbrella.  Blissfully transported by the garden of gravel paths and calm amidst the frenetic city of boundless energy and excitement.

12 comments:

Teresa Evangeline said...

I've always loved looking up at airplanes as they move through the sky at 30,000feet, ripe with possibility. Where are all those people going? Are they happy with their destinations? When I was younger I always wanted to be up there, going somewhere. Now I love to drive, Life on the open road is what speaks to me. But I still like to look up and see them overhead....

Beautifully told, Jane.

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

I know what you mean Teresa, me too, I always think I wish I was going too!

ps.I like the new photo of you and lovely doggy!

...Miss...Maddie's... said...

Such beautiful thoughts and wonderfully written.
Have a great weekend!
Susan x

A Thousand Clapping Hands said...

I must tell you that I think your blog is one of the best I have ever read. I didn't want to 'put it down'. Honestly, I wished it were a book. What a joy.
Best wishes,
Catherine

WOL said...

The apartment I used to live in was in the final approach to two large "tertiary care" hospitals that served a two-state area of the "south plains." Each had landing pads for "Life-Flight" helicopters that would bring in patients in from the small outlying hospitals who needed specialized care. At any time of the day or night a helicopter could come roaring past, about 150 feet above my roof. So the sound has a special meaning to me -- sympathy and empathy for the patient who would be so far away from home and love ones, and for the family members who were faced with the long drive in to be with their loved one. Hopes that the patient would have a good outcome and be able to go home.

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

Hi Susan! Thank you so much, hope you too enjoy your week-end, looks like it's sunny here.

Hugs Jane

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

Hello Catherine, I'm so glad to have found you! Or for you to have found me :) Thank you so very much for commenting in such a lovely way I really appreciate your words and thoughts!

Hugs Jane

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

Morning WOL, Oh! I know just what that's like, we too are just between two large hospitals. And with being near the City we regularly get the helicopter circling, although ours is the Police 'copter generally on the trail of car-thieves or some such. They shine their powerful spotlight down and sometime circle for anything up to an hour.All the time you are pondering what's happening and trusting it doesn't reach anywhere too near!
I always send thoughts to the person in the ambulance as it races up past our road, just as you described. Hoping somehow to alter things, to somehow, some way make the outcome a good one.

Hugs Jane

Jacqueline said...

Our lounge has double doors to the conservatory and, in the summer, when they are open all the time, I can lay on the sofa at night and watch all the planes going by. The flight path is pretty busy and it is amazing just how much traffic there is up there !! We also live fairly near to the police helicopter station and we see the spotlight now and again.
Thank you so much for your ' double comment' on my post. You are so kind and very supportive.
Enjoy tyhe weekend. XXXX

Lynn said...

Sounds idyllic - both the present-time image and the memories! xo

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

I could just see you Jaqueline, lying in the twilight on your couch with the conservatory french window's pushed open, wine glass in hand (I hope :)!!

Hugs Jane

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

Thanks a bunch Lynn!

Hugs xO