My littlest spotted this caterpillar by our front door the other day. We had the luxury of time and spent a moment watching it slowly meander along, gently being bothered by the woodlouse. We’ve yet to identify it, but the joy of noticing something so small has been the source of many a conversation since.
I find there is so much pleasure to be found in the little things. Whether it’s a long forgotten detail above a shop, a pretty manhole cover or a single British bluebell in a sea of Spanish - for me, it’s about appreciating the time and effort that someone or something has gone through to be there.
’s #springlight class today was all about noticing. Noticing the minute detail of something or the abstract of a feeling or a colour.Warm up 1 -
The woodpigeon
So solid and plump with soft grey feathers dusted with pink, yellow and blue topped off with a brilliant white collar. Your beady eyes and hooked yellow beak facing down, hunting for food. You gently coo to yourself, a soothing lullaby as you pick at the ground. Always on edge, but driven by a hunger akin to a Labrador. Your whole body sways from side to side on fluffy thighs and steady feet until spooked, when you take flight clumsily with disjointed flaps until you land, ruffled on the roof, to wait until the coast is clear.
Warm up 2 -
Loneliness
Loneliness can feel like a heavy pebble in your coat pocket, gently knocking at your thigh, pulling at your collar. The gnawing sensation that starts in your throat and expands to your lungs, lodging itself in your heart. The claustrophobia - air squeezed from your lungs so that you have nothing to say to the person who knows you best. To not know who to share good news with. Loneliness is the brimming of tears on your lower eyelids, papered over with a brittle, bright smile. The tripping over of words as your brain and vocal chords try to warm up having been silent for six hours. It doesn’t care about where or when, whether you’re alone or surrounded by friends. Loneliness seeks to remind you of friendships long ago lost and what once was.
Day 2 | Noticing
The Yellow Door
Laura quietly let herself out. The air was fresh and the path lined with bluebells. The sun made her squint as she dodged a low flying bumblebee. In the distance, a song thrush sang. She took a deep breath. Wrapping her coat around her, she glanced back at the yellow door, lifted the latch and slipped away.
If I didn’t have the school run shortly, I would happily have carried on writing. See you back here for tomorrow’s instalment. For more writing and poetry, pop over to catmwrites on Instagram.
Thanks for reading x
Wonderful ❤️🌸