The Restory Retreat Centre

Every year I let the ash leaves slip by. I love using them as decoration on plates as they are simply the perfect leaf. It has a graceful and slender form, balanced perfectly in a “leaf hand” of five with two opposite pairs of leaves and a single terminal leaf. The vein structure and stems imprint beautifully onto clay. But while they sway in green abundance on the slender branches all Summer I hardly notice them! Until Autumn arrives. As they flutter down in their thousands in silly yellow abandon I gather them frantically, knowing they will soon be gone and I will have to wait until Spring. I have one plate to show. ONE. Matilda #leaves #autumn #ashleaves #yellow #lostchances #lettingitslipby #pottery #imprintsonclay

Home made fresh cheese and yogurt. Photo by Matilda We never realized that we would meet more cattle than cars on the dirt road to any of our closest towns! This is one of many luxuries we enjoy that we never imagined or consciously asked for when we decided to swop city life for living in deep country. To others this may sound trivial, but it forms part of a greater whole which is altogether as wholesome and soulsome as freshly baked bread with butter. We cannot get over the wonderful views from most any window, the quiet, the incredible night sky, the friendly neighbours, the lush growth, fresh air, sunsets, seasonal color scapes, bird life and unhurried tempo. To then also have the advantage of stepping out any morning, walking down to the milk shed and returning with a jug frothing with warm-from-the-udder cow's  milk, feels like a true luxury, especially since we don't need to keep our own cows, but freely share in the bounty of our benevolent landlord. With many...

There's something magical about the Farmer's Market held on the grounds of the Pioneer's Museum every Saturday from 05:30 to 09:30, come rain or shine. And I suspect it's exactly these ungodly hours that gives it its charm! To get parking within a decent walking distance to the gates, you need to get there really early, which, during these shortening autumn days, means arriving along with scores of others and strolling through the myriad of stalls in near darkness for close on an hour before the sun leisurely shows up. Many stalls sport their own ingenious methods of lighting in the twilight zone, ranging from all manner of lamps to small generators powering electric light, but as the day dawns, the incredible abundance of all things natural and hand made and gorgeously wholesome spill into view and my senses do somersaults in my still rather sleepy body. A little boy scoops handfuls of rose petals from a bucket his father is carrying and throws it up into the ai...

In writing about my experiences with sunbirds, I considered starting with the most recent encounter first, a little like the Lord of the Rings films. As far as I can tell it started somewhere in the middle of the very long tale and then moved hither and thither, with the film of the prelude, The Hobbit, only very recently being made and released. But I'm glad I didn't. In reliving the experiences in the sequence that it had happened, I am reminded of the subtlety with which I was led deeper and deeper into the analogy. It became rich with symbolism and has a luminality that cannot be explained rationally, and yet can also not be reasoned away. In sharing it in this way, I am convinced anew that we are not alone on this journey in life. We are safe and we are loved even more than we can ever fathom. To get the full story up till now, please see posts: Lessons in Sunbirdish (1) Lessons in Sunbirdish (2) Lessons in Sunbirdish (3)  (I am told it is not boring reading) When...

I made myself a salad a few days ago. Nothing spectacular. Just some leaves (basil, spinach, chives and rocket) from my garden. To that I added sliced, raw patty pans from Leon's farm. Also from his produce, some baby tomatoes that I had sundried and preserved in olive oil, store bought lettuce for bulk and a couple of black olives. As I was picking and slicing, I remembered my delight at receiving some of the herb plants as Christmas gifts and I marvelled at how nicely they took to their new sunny spot in my garden. Patty pans are lovely added raw to salads and I felt blessed to have such an abundance of them because of the good crop on the farm. I assembled it all in a bowl that I had made many years ago when I was in my bonsai bowl making stage. I put it onto the old wooden dining room table, beautifully restored by George a while ago.  It stood bathed in a pool of late-afternoon sunshine. Perfect lighting for natural light picture taking, I thought. Why all this detai...

I believe this life is a precious gift to be fully embraced and cherished. Not something to merely tolerate or bear until we die and go to heaven. Richard Rohr feels many of us lead Christian lives as if it is an evacuation plan for heaven. But I look at the way a flower goes to seed. And I know there's something more to dying. A single flower can leave behind a forest of trees. A single tomato can supply next year's crop. It has to do with allowing maturation of the seed through death in some form. Going from flowering to fruit to seed, in each phase completely shedding the old and transforming into the new with hardly a semblance of what was. I had witnessed my mother go to seed. Bone marrow cancer stripped her bare. When she passed away in 2003 what was left of her had faded from view. All I could see was her soul shining through her eyes. She was beautiful. I know that the seed of her life and difficult death are scattered far and wide, bearing their own abundant...