My Bright Field

Burnbrae, Lawson It may seem a little bare but the winter garden after the autumn leaves have been gathered is a wonderous thing, green lawn that won't need mowing for ages and violets flowering in the clumps. I finished work yesterday, still can't quite believe it.  I've been talking all day about the various farewell conversations I had at the office. After a long while I said to hubby "What am I going to talk about now I am retired?" to which he responded with a very straight face "That's never been a problem".

I have drawn the theme of this blog from this poem. The Bright Field - R. S. Thomas I have seen the sun break through to illuminate a small field for a while, and gone my way and forgotten it. But that was the pearl of great price, the one field that had treasure in it. I realize now that I must give all that I have to possess it. Life is not hurrying on to a receding future, nor hankering after an imagined past. It is the turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush, to a brightness that seemed as transitory as your youth once, but is the eternity that awaits you.