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Hello and welcome to my blog formerly called Gypsy-K. Please note that I am only updating this blog while I am walking from Rome to Jerusalem from September 2015. My online home and permanent blog is at www.kymwilson.com.au. You can also sign up for pilgrim postcards and newsletters here. Thank you for being here and supporting my journey. With love and courage, Kym xx

Saturday, 15 October 2011

Small stones

Last week I came across a blog and website called Writing Our Way Home who teach people to slow down and fall in love with the world by writing small stones. What is a small stone? It is a very short piece of writing that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment. There are no rules or forms to follow it is just about watching, listening, smelling, tasting, touching and feeling something in the world. I was curious so I took their 7 day challenge to write one small stone every day.  Here are some of the results and experiences from my world this week.
 Let me know what you think.

A silveresque trail.
Its wetness shimmers delicately in the post-rain sun,
Leading the way to its creator.
Slimy, sluggish body housed in a delicate brindled shell.
The snail moves with undetectable movement.
Its trail, the only tell-tale sign.







The unseen sun,
Permeates the silvery marshmallow expanse thickly carpeting the sky,
Its glaring light magnified through the drape that hides.











 

White capped waves wash over weather-worn rocks, bubbling and foaming before slinking back down to join their inky mass.  WhooSHHHHHHHHHHH.  WhooSHHHHHHHHHHH. WhooSHHHHHHHHHHH. 
The constant rush of sound mingles with the salty, sticky breeze.
A soothing caress carried on invisible wings



Tiny bare feet skip lightly over moist smooth sand.
Little pale skinned legs gallop towards the silver sea. 
Favourite green and yellow martian lycra swimmers sit snug on straight bony hips.
Bare white chest momentarily dry. 
Into the small waves he skips and sits down with a gleeful splash.
Black mop of cropped hair plastered, salty.
Dark Asiatic eyes squint in delight.
“Look at me” he waves to the ones he left dry on the sand.


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