The Last Leaf Along The Beach

Some weeks ago Barbra Joan posted a picture of a leaf and its reflection. I could not resist writing the words of a poem to go with that photograph. Barbra then went on to paint the leaf, and made an excellent job of doing so. I recently painted a version of my painting of the feather on the beach. I was surprised by some of the comments made to me about that. What made me happy was that I had at last produced a painting again.


Yesterday I painted this version of my beach, taking the last leaf of autumn and using it. I am not sure if I have managed to make it work but it has inspired me to try again. I think on the next one I will simply have the leaf on the beach like my feather. Who knows I might even have other ideas for a mini series of beach type paintings, and during the course I just might get one that I will say I like.

I hope Barbra Joan does not find my interpretation of her photograph too bad. I apologise in advance for taking her idea and adapting it to this.



This blog is linked to my other.   What I Long To Be

Along The Canal

Along The Canal

On my other blog today I speak of one of my students. This little watercolour was painted along the canal where he and I often ran together. I have left much of the rest of this blog today very much the same as it was yesterday. This watercolour I still have hanging in my home. I actually like it which is unusual for me to say that about a waterclour I have painted.  Maybe it is because the place has many happy memories for me.

A Moment of Togetherness.

The snow was deep painting everything in wondrous white.

Silence surrounded me,

broken only by my pressing of the snow.

Then all at once I saw them,

three deer stood like sentinels before me.

Ears pricked as two sped off in haste.

The other looked and caught my eye.

I gazed in awe into the deep pools

eye to eye we stood.

Slowly he stepped aside to let me pass.

With thankful thoughts I left him to his day,

But in my heart I carried him on my way.

Nor will I forget that moment when we were one

And all of life stood still.

A second that will last eternally.

I thought I would share this moment with you. It happened as I ran through the woods a few miles from my home. I have run these woods so many times and have been inspired by the beauty often. But this one moment will be with me for a long time. How I wish I could find a  way to express it in art.

This blog is linked to my other.    Being A Good Teacher

I Remember. ( No More)

Today I felt so alive as I ran in the snow. I could almost hear the beating of my heart and each breath I could see as it left me. It made me remember the first ever hospital visit I made as a minister. It was very near the end of my degree course in divinity. The church I was going to be apreacher in had organised a conference for new ministers to be. During it we were to make a pastoral visit to an hospital patient. A number of patients had been asked if they would agree to such a visit. It was to last about fifteen minutes, and we were to report back to the group.

I was to visit a young lady who had been in the hospital long term. That was all I was told. I met her, and instantly we seemed to feel at ease. An hour later I left. She had shared so many memories with me. The next day I returned with this poem. It was read at her funeral a few weeks later and given to her sons.

I do not know why, but today I remembered that event, I share it with you. I do not know why but I do.

The Poem.

I Remember (No More)

I watch the drops of rain run down the window pane.

Small river following their unmapped course,

I have watched this window day by day

for long and weary months.

I saw the man with the mower in the summer sun,

and remembered the stacks of grass we threw

in other summer suns.

I remember other things we threw,

the stones that crashed against the glass.

I hear again the sound and feel the fear

of being caught.

Running breathless – hiding.

I have watched the leaves falling from yonder tree.

Watched as the last one held on.

Willing it to stay for me.

I remember the smell of dying leaves kicked with joyful rustle.

Through this “pain”, this pane.

I have watched the changing seasons go.

spring became summer and then autumn

to this the winter of my life.

I remember sledging with children,

laughing, cold, yet full of fun.

No more for me the things of life.

No more to lie and hold my lover fast.

No more the sounds of summer joys

or children’s hugs.

No more, for life is swiftly ebbing on.

But, no more do I fear

for things to be, tomorrow or the next.

For through the pain

I have caught a glimpse.

And seen beyond the morrow.

My heart has heard a whispered voice.

That talks of more to be.

I will be remembered, cherished , loved

By the boys who are yet to be.

I am aware this can be a sad poem but as you can see, I hope it comes back to me in moments of intense joy. The young lady still inspires me and fills me with hope and courage, even though it was some 40 years and more I met her.

This blog is linked to my other.  Living in Difficult Situations.

Cold Mornings

Cold Autumn Mornings

This painting was one of my early abstracts. It was just at the end of autumn and the first hints of the winter to come were visible in the early mornings. I do not know why I painted this but it was the first of many paintings that my fingers played a large part in the creation of.

This painting now hangs in the house of a good friend. I used it as the picture for a christmas card.

I looked at it again this morning and it just seemed to fit the day so well.

This blog is linked to my other. The Rules of Ownership