This image was taken on outdated Polaroid film, manipulated in Photoshop, hand painted in Painter, then rephotographed with another outdated Polaroid.

Vi

This was me some sixty years ago.
I was a very different person
some sixty years ago.
I was devil may care
some sixty years ago,
with time,
I thought,
for everything.
Now I know,
some sixty years out
that there is not time
for every single thing,
so I do
that which is important
to me now
and my well-being.
Just remember that, you young things.
Just remember our time
is not forever.

(c)Woodnymph (Vi)
July 2010

The Healing

Through the fog

I swim toward the light.

From the dark

I struggle toward the dawn.

It’s easier now

As winter stretches into spring

And the warmth renews my broken body.

Wild flowers paint the hillsides,

Glowing like fairy lights as the dawn bursts forth

In all its glory.

And though their life be short in this desert clime,

they heal and help restore my battered being

bringing me out of the fog

and into the bright light of day.

Vi Jones

©March 27, 2010

How many of us
When we reach the end
Will never have pondered
The light of the moon,
The song of the wind,
Or the stories found
In a grain of sand?

How many of us
When we reach the end
Will die lonely and lost
Without friends to return
The hugs we never gave,
The smiles we never shared,
The love we never knew?

Are you one
Of the many of us
To whom life was a drag,
A gift thrown away,
Where nothing of beauty
Entered your heart…
Or your soul?

Are you one of the many of us?

Vi Jones
©October 2009

It was about noon when we checked into the hotel where we immediately hit the bed and slept soundly until about seven that evening, getting up just in time to have a quick supper.

The next morning we hired a car and set out for Wales, sightseeing along the way. We stayed in Aberystwyth, my home town, for two days before heading north to Dolgellau. The weather, true to British tradition was awful. It was windy, cold, and poured down rain. Unfortunately by the time we arrived at Dolgellau, I had come down with a miserable cold/flu, the result, I’m sure of that horrible flight. My head felt like old newspaper just removed from the bottom of a bird cage. My throat burned, and I ached from head to toe.

We pulled up at a very inviting appearing hotel, one that had been recommended by friends. Since we didn’t have a reservation, Ginger went in to see if they could accommodate us. She returned to the car minutes later. “You’re going to like this,” she said with a big smile. “It’s just what the doctor ordered.” Now since I had not seen a doctor, I wondered if she really knew what she was talking about. All I really cared about was slipping into a warm bed and sleeping the clock around.

I followed her into the lobby and immediately spotted the biggest fireplace I had ever seen and with the biggest fire roaring away in the hearth, It was surrounded by several comfortable looking easy chairs. I felt my bloodshot eyes light up. Since it was off-season there weren’t too many people around, but a sign board at the entrance had indicated afternoon tea would be served at four. That sounded like something I could live for…strong hot tea.

Before Ginger finished with registering us as guests, I had made myself comfortable in an enormous easy chair with my feet propped up on a poof (Hassock to those less familiar with British terms) The stone work around the hearth was festooned with highly polished brass fireplace tools. This was truly Hestia’s Hearth and I felt her arms around me as the warmth from her brightly burning fire penetrated deeply into my aching body.

Soon Ginger joined me. She was, I know, concerned about my feeling so bad as well as the fact that I was visiting my native land for the first time since I had left there so many years before and not being able to enjoy the experience. We had only a limited amount of time; ten days vacation. As bad as I felt, I worried that I was spoiling her trip, her first visit ever to the United Kingdom. She, I knew, had looked forward to this for some time.

My thoughts were pleasantly interrupted by a pleasant, red headed young woman with a thick Welsh accent. She pushed a tea cart with a pot of hot tea, cream and sugar, delicate assorted sandwiches, chocolate covered biscuits, slices of fruit cake, and Victorian Sandwich Cake. How could I not feel better? Ginger did the honors while I allowed myself to be pampered.

Later, that evening, in our room, I discovered the towel rails were heated…what luxury. Hestia’s doing I’m sure. The four days we spent there in Dolgellau were Hestia’s gift to me and I am grateful to this day for her presence on that day.

The embers glow in Hestia’s hearth,
Waiting and welcoming
All weary travelers
Who cross the threshold,
To stop and visit,
To watch the flames
Rise and crackle
And the sparks
Dance until exhausted
And disappear like the stars at dawn.

Vi Jones
©July 28, 2009

Like Ghosts in the water

they come and they go,

to and fro,

in light and in shade.

They’re there for the looking,

but take your finger,

ripple the surface,

watch them scatter and dive

into the murky depths

to hide where it is,

they think, safe.

Never knowing in their tiny brains

there are denizens waiting,

just waiting

to swallow in one gulp,

lunch, dinner, and supper.

Then those that were there

truly are

Ghosts in the water.

Would that we humans

had such tiny brains

that we too,

could live

in the moment

and not concern ourselves

with an uncertain and scary future.

But the thought of that too,

is scary.

Vi Jones

©July 25, 2009

I hiked,
Walked,
Wandered,
And strolled.

I looked,
Peeked,
Stared,
And studied.

I spoke
To the clouds,
Trees,
Shrubs,
And grasses.

I sang
To the four leggeds,
The winged,
Finned,
And slitherers,

My plan was to hike ten miles before tea
And here it is evening, and I’ve gone about three.

Vi Jones
©May 25, 2009

Foggy Sunrise  by Vi Jones. Painting this gave me a break from the scurry and rush of the holidays.

Manipulated Polaroid

Digital photograph of a bouquet after having been manipulated in Photoshop Elements.