Ornicophony ~ inspired by the deafening birdsong to be heard on Llanbradach Hill, above one of the biggest coal mines that once belched out black dust in South Wales. #HopeOnAStick https://t.co/EOVI6WxH4t
— Ginny (@ginbat) May 27, 2019
A rubble road crests a ridge above the old coal pit village of Llanbradach. Breeze blocks and plastics are decaying to dust, beginning to press themselves shallow into the chorography of this place. I stand on a jumble of human fall-out, taking in the views, and think of my father; and his father.
Llanbradach Hill is one of many swells in the geodrama known unsentimentally as the South Wales Upper Coal Measures Formation. Down deep, where it is warm, labarynthine tunnels have been blasted out by men long dead, and the spaces left uncollapsed now leak with water, gas and ghosts. … Read more
Joe’s Harkness’s Bird Therapy is a thing of healing.
This is a man that has been to the lowest emotional point; the first few opening lines allow a glimpse of the depths of colourlessness that depression can bring, the point at which the pain comes to zero, and there seems nothing left to value, not even life.
Don’t be deterred; there’s great courage here. Through relatable accounts of his re-connection of a life-love of birds, and new paths found, Joe finds his way back from the brink of nothingness to somewhere good, somewhere of vibrance and of song. And he brings us all along with him. … Read more
“Flowers are the beautiful hieroglyphics of nature with which she indicates how much she loves us.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
Let in the light.
Deep in a wooded glade on the northern fringes of Cardiff, bright sunlight filters down through an unfolding verdant canopy to an array of snow-white starlets gleaming along the woodland floor.
The wood anemones have bloomed and this makes me very happy. I must be honest with you, there were moments during cancer treatment when I considered never seeing Spring 2019. Today, these ‘wind flowers’ shimmer to a breeze in waves, whilst little clouds cast shadow moments and honey bees and bee flies trace their invisible paths from one flower to another. … Read more
Rockle ~ the sound of beach rocks drawn seaward by the backrush of waves. An energy released from a key process of beach erosion, the making of shingle and sand habitats.
“Wren; small, migratory singing bird, Old English wrenna, metathesis variation of earlier werna, a Germanic word of uncertain origin. Compare Icelandic rindill, Old High German wrendo, wrendilo “wren.” (etymonline.com)
The suffix like is a model for Spring Theory, an evolution from the root gelic, lic, like, and to ly.
Wren perched in a little thicket of dogwood. I heard her first, of course, even above a whoosh of Taff water spilling the Blackweir. Then her roundness appeared so tiny, so seemingly defenseless in the face of human derogation (in this case, river-borne litter caught up in tweavelets). … Read more
A holobiont is an ecological unit composed of several species, coined by the late, great Lynn Margulis. We humans are all holobionts, because we exist in symbiosis with many bacteria, etc.
— Ginny (@ginbat) March 20, 2019
I would like to offer a more colloquial name… symling ("symbiosis" plus "ling" diminutive ~ after earthling). This is not a word to replace holobiont as a scientific name.
Symling. We are all symlings, as are many other earthly entities. #Neologisms
— Ginny (@ginbat) March 20, 2019
… Read more
In Welsh folklore, this time of year is associated with Blodeuwedd, a woman made from flowers, who then turned into an owl.
“The love for all living creatures is the most noble attribute of (hu)man(ity).”
~ Charles Darwin
The path rolled out in front of me like the lolling tongue of a happy dog. My strides were photon pulses upwards from a gloomy darkness that had haunted me for an age. Elm trees stood as watchmen, and I passed beneath conscious we were akin, so far, all survivors of disease.
After I received my good scan result, taking a chance on a tramp across town to glimpse a dipper at Blackweir seemed a necessity for me. … Read more
In this piece of prose, I am expressing myself at a juncture in life, a collision of complex matters that are important to me right now, and causing me much emotional pain ~ love, Earth crisis, cancer.
I hope to explore the idea that some ambivalence, far from being malign in relationships (with humans, non humans, self and in our work ~ protecting the biosphere and machines), must be embraced as part of the process (fundamentally, I am a process philosopher). There would be a point where rejection and change is wise ~ letting go ~ but no relationship will ever be perfect. … Read more
“Love, in relation to ambivalence, has its own vicissitudes. Our recognition that these are inevitable – and indeed an internal part of love – allows them to seem less a reason to give up. And, of course, the same point applies in our sense of those we love.”
John Armstrong, Conditions of Love; The philosophy of intimacy.
Clipped in, I drive home. Snow dusts itself around the windscreen-wipers and a low sun feels to be piercing. I am in pain. The return home from the cancer centre is a little complicated, no direct bus route and a bit too far for me to ride a bike. … Read more