I absolutely love this video of nature reclaiming its stake; the artistry is amazing and the music mesmerizing. It was inspired by the poem The Tyger by William Blake:

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water’d heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Not bad hey! Lots of metaphors in that. Shame that the tiger is the baddie.

There is a story of a woman running away from tigers. She runs and runs and the tigers are getting closer and closer. When she comes to the edge of a cliff, she sees some vines there, so she climbs down and holds on to the vines.

Looking down, she sees that there are tigers below her as well. She then notices that a mouse is gnawing away at the vine to which she is clinging. She also sees a beautiful little bunch of strawberries close to her, growing out of a clump of grass. She looks up and she looks down. She looks at the mouse. Then she just takes a strawberry, puts it in her mouth, and enjoys it thoroughly.

Tigers above, tigers below. This is actually the predicament that we are always in, in terms of our birth and death. Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life.

― Pema Chödrön, The Wisdom Of No Escape

I read this story on my yoga teacher’s blog and I started imagining all those horrible little chores that I never seem to get on top of as the tigers above and tigers below. I often wake up wishing that my life was a clean slate, with all the items on my TO DO list ticked and nothing pending. It seems as if there is always so much that needs to be done and so little time to do it. I’m talking about phone calls that have to be made, emails that need to be sent, accounts to be paid and documents printed or scanned (we can’t fax because we don’t have a landline, thanks to the dreaded cable thieves). It doesn’t help that Peter is technologically challenged either. And have you noticed that nothing is ever resolved in one fell swoop; it always requires more than one phone call or email? And heaven help you if you have to provide someone with documents in person, they never give you the complete list of things to bring, inevitably necessitating an embarrassing meltdown on your part and at least another trip. Then there are things like household chores, a thankless and never-ending cycle of dirty and clean. What I want to know is why the laundry basket is never empty, and why the dining room table has to be cleared every day before we can eat at it. Where does all this stuff come from? And, for that matter, why are there always papers to be filed? Wasn’t the age of computers supposed to do away with all this bloody paper? And don’t get me started on the garden! I long for a day when I can wander outdoors and sit on one of the many chairs dotted around the garden without casting a beady eye over my weed-ridden lawn or worrying about where to plant the lovely indigenous grasses that I bought ages ago at the spring plant sale. Those wretched tigers are everywhere.

In the meantime, I’m going to eat some metaphorical strawberries (in the form of a glass of chilled white wine), put my feet up and watch the final of So You Think You Can Dance. As Mark Twain so wisely said:

“Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow.”

P.S. I’m watching series 9 of SYTYCD and the dancing is phenomenal. Can it get any better?

rhododendron bud (for Debbie)

rhododendron bud (for Debbie)



spring bulbs

spring bulbs

our house

our house

Kho, being creative with rubble

Kho, being creative with rubble


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