Can't help watching

31. Can't help watching

White water fades to black.

Black water runs into white.

31 stones. One for each day of July, skimming through my posts this month. It's been so good to take a close focus again.

July also involved a real life rushing, raging river for me. Afon Glaslyn, pictured here in the first shot looking downriver towards the gorge and in the second shot looking upriver from the garden. Staying right beside this river in Wales, it's no surprise that there are many more stones in my notebook that haven't made it to the polishing stage yet.

As usual, after I return home, I'm still missing her voice running through the house. I'm lucky to hear the sea here at home sometimes, especially when the traffic is quiet or when the tide pounds in, but a river has a different kind of constancy in her sounds, and was running just a few yards away from the house.

Thanks to everyone who followed the river this month and especially those who added comments.

Forest

30. Forest

Builders unload planks on the corner.

Slow down as you walk past.

Smell the forest.

Bus stop

29. Bus stop

Bus stop.

Sea view.

I don't mind waiting.

When I was doing the weeding

27. New piece

It flits through my dreams,

hangs out in grey corners of sleep,

waits for me,

becomes a soundtrack to my days,

the new piece I'm working on.

28. Weeding

Doing the weeding.

Showing no mercy.

(Sorry, weed lovers of the world!)

Gongs

26. Gongs

Scaffolders dismantle their rigs.

Strike gongs.

New crop

25. New crop

Dig them up from the warm soil.

Scrub, cook, eat.

Sunday morning

24. Sunday morning

Before I open my eyes - the metallic breath of a new tide, the grate of early traffic, my neighbour's urgent footsteps, glissandi seagull cries, the space around the ticking clock.

Side by side (stones 17-23)

17. Side by side

Sometimes,

all you need to do

is sit side by side.

I was in Wales last week, staying beside a river that has become a friend. Afon Glaslyn runs past the garden of a little cottage I stay at. Her voice is a constant there, especially at times when the water is wild. And it was very wild for the first few days!

Sitting beside a river. The best times were the simple ones.

Thanks to everyone who sent comments while I was away. I write every day, holiday or not, so here are some stones found in Wales. Enjoy!

18. Angle

No let up in the rain.

Only the angle changes.

19. In another country

At the petrol station

across the border,

mossy rocks like in a magical cave,

fairytale ferns,

waterfall.

20. Slate

Cracked slate.

Blinkered horse.

Picasso portrait.

Shrugging bird.

Map of the valley.

21. Eye level

Sun-baked rocks draw you down,

make you lie eye level

with waterfall, heather,

gorse and bilberries.

22. Runaways

Lambs run away from the steam train,

race with swallows.

23. Red dragons

Red dragons guard the iron frames

of the station benches.

River song

16. River song

Sometimes, the river has less to say.

But I'm still listening.

Time off

15. Time off

Swinging my legs from an old bench.

Strolling home in old sandals.

Everything taking as long as it takes.

New islands

14. New islands

Way out at sea.

New islands on the move.

Cloud shadows.

Dot to dot

13. Dot to dot

Dot to dot.

Flower to flower.

Trying to guess where the next kiss will press.

Hoverfly.

Marigolds.

Sea edge

12. Sea edge

Waves flip to reveal

a translucent underbelly.

An endless snake,

curving closer,

sssssssssssss-ing West.

4.10 am

11. 4.10 am

Not ideal

4.10 am

I close my eyes again,

pick up the pen

and write in the dark.

My muse likes to come home late after a night on the town or from moonlit hilltop walks. She crashes about like that flatmate I had at college who never slept in the hours of darkness.

Then she starts doodling with that new piece we've been working on. Comes up with a river of ideas, out loud.

My limbs are holding onto sleep. My brain is trying to convince me that I'll remember these images in the morning. I know the magic will start to fade as soon as I open my eyes.

So, I do the right thing. I reach for the pen, the notebook, hunch around the page, write until there's nothing more to say.

In the morning, my words look like a huge and enthusiastic monster was learning to write on pages that cramped his style. I can't read all the words, but I get the gist.

4.10 am is my 11th stone in the River of stones this month. Click here to find out more about the project and to read some more small stones.

Lavender blur

10. Lavender blur

The breeze surges with lavender blur,

butterfly flitting and teasel sway,

unable to stop once it all started.

While the vegetables on the allotment are catching up on sun, the herbs and flowers seem to be busy filling up all the gaps. Everything seemed to be in flow today on a breeze that came in like surging waves. I think it made the insects delirious.

Sweet peas, lavender, blueberries, raspberries, shallots, red onions, mange tout peas, sugar snap peas, radishes, courgettes. Today's harvest. Happy.

Stirred

9. Stirred

A paper coffee cup

dances in circles

in the alleyway.

Spontaneous

8. Spontaneous

Even better as a surprise,

staying for dinner.

Tail lights

7. Tail lights

Red tail lights speed up the hill,

take off into the night.

Consonants

6. Consonants

A Spanish girl talks at her silent friend,

hardly pausing for breath.

I hear flamenco in her consonants.

Hypnotic

5. Hypnotic

Watching the volleyball match.

Not caring who wins.

This little piece is part of a River of stones. You can read more about the project by clicking here.

Low tide, Monday

4. Low tide, Monday

Monday morning rush hour.

A man in a suit strides across the beach,

takes off his smart shoes,

rolls up his trousers

and paddles towards town.

Copy cat

3. Copy cat

Pushing the pram along the promenade,

he's shouting into his phone.

In every pause,

his grinning baby shouts back.

Lane

2. Lane

Driving out of town,

the pavement runs with us,

fluid as a meandering stream.

Always a different river

Soon, I'll be returning to a river. Sometimes I think I can hear it even though I'm many miles away. In another country.

But before I put my feet into that lovely Welsh river, I'll be taking part in this month's River of Stones. This is where lots of bloggers aim to pay attention to one small thing each day and to write it down.

So, here's the first of mine this month.

1. Twilight

Dark shapes in the twilight.

Three round stones sitting like cats.

Three round cats sitting like stones.

If you'd like to read more about the project, read some more stones, or find out about how you can join in, even if you don't consider yourself to be a writer, click here to go the river.