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| author | Joe Carstairs <me@joeac.net> | 2026-04-25 10:04:19 +0100 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Joe Carstairs <me@joeac.net> | 2026-04-25 10:08:20 +0100 |
| commit | dfc210c1e6dbb33a41334843941c931623565bde (patch) | |
| tree | a0490876b4dc40302eb66409f987c85dd0d9be99 /capsule/microlog/2026-04-14.1.gmi | |
| parent | bf8a4a338f04d30b5166b57f306db286c4c707f9 (diff) | |
move microlog posts to common/
Diffstat (limited to 'capsule/microlog/2026-04-14.1.gmi')
| -rw-r--r-- | capsule/microlog/2026-04-14.1.gmi | 9 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9 deletions
diff --git a/capsule/microlog/2026-04-14.1.gmi b/capsule/microlog/2026-04-14.1.gmi deleted file mode 100644 index 2cf83e8..0000000 --- a/capsule/microlog/2026-04-14.1.gmi +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9 +0,0 @@ -‘Losing Eden’ by Lucy Jones left me feeling hopeful, inspired. But I can’t imagine what I shall do, and it’s driving me nuts. What I really want is to form a joy brigade at Bruntsfield Evangelical that goes outside regularly, to ‘touch nature from the inside.’ But I tried that before, and no one signed up, and I have no idea how to persuade people to sign up to things, or what sort of thing I could run instead that people would sign up to. And now I feel depressed. I feel I want to do something, and I can do something, but no one will back me up, presumably because there’s something wrong with me. - -That’s how I felt about noon. To burn some energy, I went to walk to the shops and back, and long before I knew what I was doing, I found my toes dangling in the Braid Burn. It was a very particular spot. Last time I came here, I pretty much wrote a sonnet in my head, and came back and wrote it down. Today I did not have many words in my head, but I was astonished at how delicious the light looked through the leaves and the warm bed of wildflowers I couldn’t name. - -When I came back, I was still fizzing with frustrated energy. I didn’t realise hope could be such a terrible emotion. On a whim, I got Edward Thomas off the shelf, and browsed through his poems, including ‘Lob’ and my favourite, ‘Adlestrop.’ - -By that point, I’d calmed down enough to get back to my work. I read ‘Wilding’ by Isabella Tree, with illustrations by Angela Harding. It also made me feel hopeful. They have a story about a diamond in the rough, a shining city on a hill in a land still cloaked in darkness, a suggestion that homo sapiens could be a keystone species. I was close to tears three times while reading it. - -After I finished, I went outside in the rain into my tenement’s shared garden. I’ve been there exactly once before: in January last year, when I was viewing the flat. I looked once, and decided it was dark, lifeless and dull: not worth going back to. I was so wrong! I’m plotting to try taking my morning pot of tea in the garden some day when it’s dry. I don’t feel angry any more. |
