Here shall my heart find its haven of calm, ….

top of hill

Here shall my heart find its haven of calm,
By rush-fringed rivers and rain-fed streams
That glimmer thro’ meadows of lily and palm.
Here shall my soul find its true repose
Under a sunset sky of dreams
Diaphanous, amber and rose.
The air is aglow with the glint and whirl
Of swift wild wings in their homeward flight,
Sapphire, emerald, topaz, and pearl.
Afloat in the evening light…’*


 One of my  ‘tasks’ as Gatekeeper at the Under Gardner’s Lodge, as I have mentioned before is to lock the gates… and on evenings like to tonight, it is a real blessing.

avenue mixed
This evening I walked Madam up the Lime Avenue;  then we climb gently as we meander out way up through the arch of the wooded avenue- a mixture of Oak, Elder, Limes, and Hawthorne, who bow as we walk under their verdant dress, the failing sunlight dapples and dances between their leaves.

field sunset

Finally at the top of the hill , are the gates; barriers to another world… keys turned, we turn and  stop for a moment as the sun’s  slip away…

‘Under a sunset sky of dreams
Diaphanous, amber and rose. …’

Feeling blessed. we hear the birds call, the crows and magpies,  noisy Corvidae dance in the whirlwinds of air.


Then as we wander slowly back down and across the meadow.

Red Fox - public domain

Red Fox – public domain

In the distance is a flex of bunt orange, and flash of white …

The large male fox we have met before,  sits his face turned upwards towards the dying sun…

A yoga pose of remembrance, he soaks in the last of the dying rays.

Then he turns, nods, acknowledging our baited presence,  and is gone into the wooded growth.


Sadly, or maybe not, I did not take my camera or my phone, with me; I did not capture these beautiful magical moments on ‘digital celluloid’…

But in they are etched on my soul

And so the world turns again…


dog sunset


*by Sarojini Naidu


About Wælcyrie

I'm a 50 plus [ how time flies] multifaceted, oxymoron, who can never really make her mind up. A Follow of the Hekate, a Wælcyrie who walks in the liminal spaces, between and betwix. a Medium, ( I'll talk to anyone dead or alive), a Writer of short stories, a disorganised Blogger, Cake Baker, Jam Maker; Mother Grandmother and Wife.
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