My husband exclaimed, ‘don’t they know what amber means!’ as we encountered a second car speed through another set of traffic lights.
Another Amber Gambler*!
It was late afternoon on Monday, we were returning with a lime green, lemongrass zest fragrant candle from Dusk candle and homewares store. The advertising boasts ‘A refreshing mix of aromatic lemongrass, zingy citrus fruits and verbena for an exotic, uplifting fragrance. ‘ Close up my husband says it smells like creosote. Luckily when caught on a waft it smells devine.
This is the chosen aroma for our open house scheduled for Saturday morning from 8:45 am. Our home is officially on the market!
Fingers crossed the sale will be the green light for us to move on to the next chapter of our antipodean adventure.
*According to Wikipedia, ‘Amber Gambler is a metaphorical phrase and the title of a British public information film from the 1970s, about the dangers of speeding through traffic lights before the amber changes to red “when there is ample time to stop”, or in advance of it turning to green.
This is a glimpse of the morning sun pouring through stained glass in the door that goes to the front garden. The light is diffused as it passes through a curtain decorated with appliquéd leaves in shades of green. Combined with the wall colour, candle sticks and Cirque du Soleil painting; a warming church-like scene.
I find the term ‘drawing-room’ a trifle pretentious, however after dinner we do withdraw to this east facing, cheerful, cosy and comfortable place.
I find it too easy for my inner vision to be clouded by every day concerns and responsibilities; my physical life often weighs heavy on my heart. The physical world is also provides the key for my sprit to be unshackled and to regain flight.
Knowing the cues
The sound of the breeze through trees; the swish of the sea on the shore; the scent of jasmine; or the sight of a gently flickering candle help me to make an inner connection, however this doesn’t always do the trick.
The next step
I have written posts about the challenge of capturing as many ideas as possible when my mind is abuzz with inspiration. When the opposite is true, it is like casting a fine mesh net into a sluggish sea. Most of the brainwaves flow through and only a small number of seeds of inspiration are collected.
As with all fishing, patience and taking a break can help achieve a result. As my thoughts spark, connect and add substance to the seeds, they often prove to be a catalyst for something worthwhile. Even if I don’t succeed, beating myself up about it isn’t productive and there will usually be an opportunity to have another go.
While meditating the other day, my thoughts drifted to the things that connect us. The Earth, the Moon, the stars, the seas, air and fire. I was inspired to take photographs of a candle so that I could study the colours in and around the flame.
Thinking about the candle reminded me of the following lines from the 1983 song, “Papa, Can You Hear Me?” performed by Barbra Streisand for the movie Yentl.
May the light of this flickering candle
Illuminate the night the way
Your spirit illuminates my soul
30 years have passed since, on a sunny day in Blackpool, UK I bought the Yentl soundtrack on cassette tape. I find it fascinating that the image of something as simple as a candle flame has the power to transport me back in time, connect me with others across the globe and provide a link to the humans who have utilised fire for light, heat and worship across the centuries.
Papa, Can You Hear Me? was composed by Michel Legrand, with lyrics by Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman.
Being mid-Summer in Australia we are celebrating Litha, the Summer solstice while the northern hemisphere celebrates Yuletide. Over the last few days the water temperature in the pool has been a comfortable 28-30oC.
Afternoons spent frolicking with the undines of the pool flow perfectly into evenings on the deck surrounded by the gnomes of the Earth while celebrating the salamanders by candlelight and honouring the sylphs of the air with sandalwood incense.