Escape…

I want to share these sweet little eggs.

I took this photo in a garden shop.

The eggs are fake. Still, they evoke a sense of tenderness and yearning in me.

I want to live in a little cottage in a beautiful place where life is peaceful.

With little nests, butterflies and fragrant flowers….

It’s been a hard week.

Actually, a hard year or so.

This pandemic drags on.

I am upset that my friends are losing their jobs, moving away.

And of course, there are the countless deaths.

Oregon hospitals are bringing in temporary morgues (KGW8 9/3/2021)

Idaho morgues are running out of space. (Washington Post 9/25/2021 issue)

I am weary.

“And like one lost in a thorny wood,

That rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns,

Seeking a way and straying from the way;

Not knowing how to find the open air,

But toiling desperately to find it out.”

~~Gloucester (Henry VI Part 3, Act III scene ii) Shakespeare

6 thoughts on “Escape…

  1. I can so relate to this Lori. While we haven’t experienced the terrible death rate of Covid, I fear we soon will as people become exhausted by our lockdown, yet so many won’t get vaccinated. I’m losing my faith in my fellow New Zealanders, and Shakespeare’s words resonate so profoundly.
    I hope you find your cottage — whether literally or as a space of peace in your heart.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. While your eyes still can see the beauty and promise in those speckled eggs so too will the bad news dissipate and good news rise again. Such it was for an old man who held a butterfly cutout in his hand (made by a grandchild) looked across the desolate burnt and drowned paddocks and mourned for dead animals and his former life . His eyes longed to see again, just a semblance of former things. One tiny thing, a cardboard shape was all he had now but it kept his HOPE alive, Blessings!

    Liked by 1 person

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