Trees: A Study In Wonder
Ride Free, A Poem
Love
Love always
Love you Mum
I love you Daddy
Love children
Love you till forever
To my diamond in the sky, I love you
Wear a mask. Wash your hands
Care home residents Lewisham
To all the patients of Epsom & St Helier Hospital
NHS workers are 4 life not just 4 Covid
Thank you NHS Love you NHS
All affected by the virus
We love you miss you we lost our world
I love you to the moon and back
I love you 300,000,000 times
To All We Love To All Fighters!
Forever in my heart and always on my mind
Precious memories
Death takes a heart that no one can heal
Love makes memories that no one can steal
You were young, gifted and black
Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows
your name
You are the light of my life
Shine on G man you crazy diamond
No matter what
Love always
For all those who died alone and for the families
who never got to say goodbye
So many flashbacks not near enough wishes
For all the staff lost in the Chelsea and Westminster (Hospital) RIP
Vax 4 our kids No Vax 4 our kids
To all victims of Covid-19 worldwide we will remember you always with love
More than 1.1 million people still battling post- Covid Syndrome
Never forget
My heart is broken
All for life and love
Lockdown 20.03.2020
Ar dhéis Dé go raibh a h-anam*
May Allah forgive your sins
Vladimir 16.08.86 – 30.11.20, aged 34 years
Connie 04.12.32 – 03.05.20, aged 87 years, Bye for now
Rest in peace for all those lost in care homes
Big Sis, Little Bruv misses you
Wicked sense of humour
All this fuss over me LOL Bloody rediculus
Gorgeous Grandmother I love you
What would Trevor do?
Biff taken in his prime
Mum fell asleep Valentines Day 2021 Naupani@heaven.com
Bless
NHS
Forever
Hubby
Chaos
RIP
They say that time heals. But time has stood still.
Love you lots. I got you Babe
Love you, you changed my life, I wouldn’t be where I am without you
Our amazing Superman
You’ll never be forgotten
Our hardworking beautiful young Grandma we all love you and we miss you
Still the backbone of the family our star
Sorry I couldn’t say goodbye
Thank you Whipps Cross nurses you saved my life
Sleep tight
Beloved rapper
Beautiful Soul
A true shaker
Not forgotten
Miss you everyday
Ride free
*Ar dhéis Dé go raibh a h-anam (Irish); translation: may her soul be at the right hand of God
A poem by Nicholas Mackey From the writings on the National Covid Memorial Wall, London; seen Sunday morning, 24th July 2021
Part I
For me, in keeping with the ‘Wilderness’ theme for this edition of Art Etcetera magazine, there is something special about trees which have always woven a magical spell. In winter, those bare branches reach out denuded of their rich green coat of summer leaves, they reach out as if to touch the clouds in an unforgiving leaden sky. Like fine and intricate lacework, these bared sleek sinews stretch out intertwining forming an incredible loom
of texture – forming an infinite variety of little black numbers fashioned as if for winter. These same trees somehow signify the beauty and symmetry of life that has been temporarily dimmed by suffering and loss. But deep down we know the seeds of recovery are there in all of us like the leaves within these bare trees lying dormant waiting to appear when winter is done.
Then, the following spring reawakens in us a new strength, a new optimism to buoy us up, to carry us forward. Spring yields to its successor with that supreme tease: a cheery false promise of fine weather in these islands and we think aha, summer is here. But therein we are sometimes lucky as the elements are kind and merciful so the hot sun makes a brief appearance. We bathe gratefully in this temporary heat haze of plenty. The trees fill to brimming over with their green opulence as we gaze in wonder at their majesty when days are long and skies are cloudless blue. Fruit appears in abundance and we can begin to sense feelings of fulfilment.
But we know the season of mists and mellow-fruitfall is not far off. And don’t the trees let us know. The autumnal blaze of colour that is the focal point of our wonder is actually the hue of decay and yet we celebrate this as we kick up the fallen leaves. That gracious and eternal cycle of being and unbeing carries on and we can only begin to sense the wonder about it all. Many trees I have seen have been around for countless years before me and will no doubt be dazzling us with their well-turned out evergreen finery for many moons after I’ve shuffled on. Rather than being downcast I’m emboldened by this as I feel part of an all-powerful continuum of life that carries on. Relentless and eternal, giving strength. And I will always feel a sense of wonder about trees. Always.
Part II
There is something special about trees which forever weave a magical spell. In winter, denuded of their rich green summer canopy, those bare branches reach out as if struggling to touch the clouds in an unforgiving leaden sky. Like fine and intricate lacework, these bared sleek sinews stretch out intertwining while forming a near- infinite loom of texture.
These same trees somehow signify the beauty and symmetry of life temporarily dimmed by suffering and loss. Deep down we recognise the seeds of recovery are there in all of us like the leaves within these bare trees lying dormant waiting to appear when winter is done. Then, the following spring reawakens in us a new energy, a new optimism to buoy us up, to carry us forward. Spring is like a perpetual reminder of youth with excitement about the future its faithful upbeat companion. All of a sudden looking ahead is full of promise. This onward passage of the seasons is not just some remote event divorced from our lives with those day-to-day trials and tribulations clawing at our soul. Spare a moment to take in this natural cycle and how this unceasing miraculous drama plays out. It’s all there in our midst and merely awaiting our gaze stemming from childish curiosity. With spring on our doorstep and visible in the many gardens public and private with a multitude of trees in existence we can start to feel a certain thrill thanks also to the lengthening days, a smattering of vibrant colours in the fields and the hedgerows, the altered birdsong and the caress of a distinctive breeze as we can even smell the change.
This never-ending experience of rebirth yields to its successor with that supreme tease: a cheery promise of fine weather in these islands and we think aha, summer is here. We are sometimes lucky as the elements can be kind and merciful so the hot sun makes a brief appearance. We bathe gratefully in this temporary heat haze of plenty. The trees fill to brimming over with their green opulence as we stare in awe of their majesty when days are long and skies are cloudless blue. Fruit appears in abundance and we become aware of feelings of fulfilment.
We realise, however, the period of mists and mellow- fruitfall is not far off and don’t the trees let us know in such a lavish way. The autumnal blaze of colour that is the focal point of our delight is actually the hue of decay and yet we celebrate this as we kick up the fallen leaves as the eternal sequence of being and unbeing carries on. We can but begin to appreciate the wonder of it all. Many trees have existed for countless years before me and will no doubt be dazzling those who come after with their well-turned out evergreen finery for many moons in the countless years ahead. I feel part of an all-powerful, uplifting continuum of life which carries on – timeless and everlasting, giving strength. I will always feel a sense of wonder about trees. Always.
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