Some Small Things that are Beautiful
on sunlight, & letters from old friends
(Anna Ancher, Sunlight in the Blue Room)
1. Sunlight reaching down the slippery eye of a sand-golden pebble. The pebble, thirsty, drinking it up to the very end.
2. The translucence of a pebble— how you can see your your whole face in it, even if for a brief time. Even if it a bit oblong.
3. Sunlight reaching down a stone held tight in the hand of a four year old. The stone still warm from the small-fisted grasp of her touch.
4. The loving touch of a dog. The sensation of a dog jumping all over you, or trying to leap out of your hands. Her hair everywhere on your skin. Her warm fur against your nose. This is what it means to be home.
5. Sunlight resting between the swaying hair-strands of your beloved in a car. Their head propped up on the leather cushion, long after they’ve gone to sleep.
6. A memory that pops up in your heart out of nowhere— while you’re driving in the scorching heat of May in a lonely by-lane. A memory you didn’t even know you had.
A memory of playing across lines of dust strewn on the road. The sunlight hitting the backs of your friends. How you can see yourself from afar as a child, crouched behind the old walls of a car shed: midway through a game of hide-and-seek. Waiting for your friends to find you. The joy of prolonging, even delaying the possibility of being found. The bittersweet realisation that at least within the structures of this game, you could always hope to be found.
7. Wind swirling through the sun-golden branches of oak trees. Wind against your window in scorching summer months: sneaking through its glass chinks. Wind on your face— unburdening you of the heft you had held so long in your body like a grudge against yourself. And now finally getting to watch it all thaw, melt: be loosened to the wind.
The sensation of feeling your body so freed up you feel like you can be friends with her again.
9. Running through an old pine wood— the howl of eagles following you from way back. How you never stop to see who or what is behind. No one can stop you in the woods. And then later in the day, you stop running. As you heave & catch your breath: you spot a white bird feather wrapped around a dead bark. A small miracle.
10. Birdcall sounding through the woods at odd times. How you can always hear the song, but never know who it is. How in a forest, it is always dark in some ways. How you can sometimes not tell the silhouette of a tree bark from that of a tent pole. Anything could be anything, if you didn’t go close enough. Everything so intimate and far at once. How the forest keeps calling you back, despite its dark.
11. How in the dark, anything can be anything if you imagined hard enough. The fear of that. The thrill of that.
12. Playing hide & seek in the woods with your imaginary friends— not knowing who you’re calling, or who may respond to your call. Not knowing who breathes behind the bushes. Of who watches you, your every step. Who’ll come to hold your hand as you fumble at dusk. Who will find you in the hollows of the sycamore tree in which you’ve gone to sleep, too tired to move at night. Comforted to sleep by the breath of the forest insects.
13. The long trail of a grasshopper’s body, flitting at dawn. It’s agility, as it hops from one lily leaf to another. The fluttering of its large silver eyes. Taking the whole forest in, as it swings from one birch to another. You had read in your 10th grade science book that grasshoppers have their ears on their bellies. Imagine having to listen to everything that breathes beneath you— even while you’re sleeping.
Grasshoppers are colour-shifters. They green atop a snake plant, they go cream-brown upon propping up their slender backs against a pine. A question you’ve always wondered about: when they switch colours like this, do they see the entire forest in a hue of beige-brown? What must it feel to them, to see a whole landscape in the just one colour?
14. The paper-thick scent of freshly delivered mail. Brown and crinkling at the top, a sign that someone’s hands have spent a lot of time folding them. Blue-black ink scrawled all over it, some even spilling onto its cover. You open it, & to your surprise: it is from an old school friend you haven’t heard from in decades. Who you thought had forgotten you by now. Both of you would sit next to each other on a half-broken chair at the very back. Especially during the mathematics classes. You remember how those chairs were so old they felt like they would crumble at any point. But both of you were never afraid of the possibility of it, & would only laugh about it during the lunch breaks.
In the letter: just two lines scrawled softly - how are you doing, dear? Is your heart happy? Your heart keeps running over those lines over and over. This is the only question you’ve wanted to be asked in a long time. How are you? Is your heart happy? The best kind of letters are those without a purpose. They cleanse you, they make you feel more alive in the world again.
The paper still has your friend’s rose water perfume stuck to it. And all of a sudden, so many memories come back to you— the school’s green porch, the English lessons, the chocolate candies distributed on someone’s birthday, the silvery playground slopes, the tennis lawns, the creaking white swings, those old red benches.
15. Red benches rusting at their rectangular bottom ridges. Beginning to shed their red. How you’d sit on them without ever dusting them. The fear that if you swept the dust off them: you’d wipe away the memories made on those seats too. Red benches: your childhood’s safe space. How you’d watch your friends play game after game of soccer here. Never participating in it, but always cheering for them from afar. How from this bench, the whole lawn would appear vaster. The kids always laughing, their waves curling in the wind.
16. How lightly a fistful of dust slips off your tight-clenched hands. How your mother would always keep urging you to think of the dust as all your worries combined. And then ask you to keep letting go of it, bit by bit. Particle by particle. Slowly, & then all at once.
17. Birdsong at dawn. And it’s distinct inflections & intonations through the day. The bulbul early in the morning, chirping at the windowsill for a bowl full of rice grains. A sweet cheep echoing throughout the room. Just one of them like a chorus of many. The crow, like a wake-up call. The myna’s voice starting soft, & then growing mildly hoarse before crescendoing to a grunt. You must’ve forgotten to refill her seed jar today.
Birdsong: how distinctly it resounds in different places. The way it sounds when heard from a tinted glass window, versus a doorway, a veranda, a garden, a school classroom, or a hotel room. And your favourite of them all: birdsong filtering through the thick canopy of ferns. How it enters into your room, and sings in every corner of the house.
17. The way a song on the radio can instantly bring back a time you thought you had lost— that had slipped through your fingers forever. How it calls to you. How it pushes open that door once again. And there it is, that moment: fully alive. Awakened, & waiting for you to walk back into it, all over again.
18. Flowers growing from the cemented tar of a crooked pathway. Untouched, still vining into wide-petalled blue blooms.
God’s children.
(Ambrosius Bosschaert, Still Life of Flowers)
What I’ve read & loved on Substack
’s lovely piece, I was tired. “I was tiredand God believed me.”
From
’s . Beautiful piece. The soil is soft, dark and fragrant, wet and joyous like a woman well-plowed in love’s rainstorm.Love this poem by
. “the rain on my face washed my soul clean.”This powerful piece by
here: “Under a sky dripping with ink, autographed by providence—twilight mourns day…”Gorgeous work by
im . “Once morning sun splashes down, the fog is a lavender memory…”Stunning work by
. “Love tastes like warm brownies on a Sunday morning and lemon cheesecake in early June It tastes like sharing childhood candies and maternal recipes Like watermelon drenched lips by the lake”Wonderful piece on the photography of Graciela Iturbide by . “Iturbide’s approach to photographing these communities was straight-forward, yet empathic and respectful.”
Wonderful piece here by
in . “I felt like “I” was disappearing, as if I was merging with everything in my surrounding…”Beautiful piece by
here. “Life in the forest has been calling to me for some time, I realized. Something about the trees. It always seems to be about the trees for me.”Beautiful, gentle piece by
here. “Early one morning this week I woke up before anyone else and heard the sound of a steady, gentle rain—the kind of rain that soaks down to the deeper roots and enlivens all the plants.”Love this piece on beginning again by
, . “Giving myself permission to be a beginner and try new things.”Beautiful poem by
in . “Have you ever seen the Sun take the sky so thoroughly, cleaving the blackest clouds open…”This wonderful piece by
. “I just want to be barefoot. Here, Spring is counting down days on a calendar, waiting for warmth.”Love this piece here by
. “Like a bumblebee to a flower, trees are my touchstone.”Lovely piece here by
in . “We drove on, filled with the humanness and community spirit we just witnessed…”This wonderful translation by
.Beautiful round up of May pleasures here by
in . “the greening of the earth and blossoming of so many trees and flowers…”Lovely, insightful piece by
in . “Allow yourself to feel the depths of your emotions. Embrace the slow and steady inhale just as much as the exhale.”Beautiful piece here by
. “Sophie the farmer will care for the land with her particular brand of magic and tenderness. And I will do my best to taste it all.”Love this piece (and prompt) by
. “Joy taps/on the window/ feathered in frozen black/ the breath, this liquid heart/overflows.”This lovely piece full of nostalgia by
. “Travel changes us, not always permanently. It can bring certain things back into focus, or instead rid our mind of the things that cause us discomfort.”This beautiful piece here by
: The undisturbed dust of silence will fall like a cloak upon the words.Adore this piece about honouring our creative rhythms by
. “While it pains me to pause any aspect of a passion project, I believe in giving our work (though this feels more like play) the time and care it deserves.”Love this piece here by
. “I want to be lying down on my back. On our couch in the kitchen propped up with pillows. Or our living room couch.”These wonderful found poems by
.Beautiful piece by
here. “Before sowing seeds of intention, taking steps towards unfurling, and eventually blooming, I want to turn my attention back to the soil, to laying the foundations for lushness.”Gorgeous sketches and writing here by
, . “The above drawing is a bid to find beauty in a thing that’s had its life force consumed; a search for meaning in the things that still remain.”This beautiful piece by
, . “We can’t recreate a bygone era, but we can cherish the memories, and perhaps, just perhaps, these evoke that yearning for a slower, simpler pace of life, one which many of us crave.”Love this piece full of insights by
. “We already know that subjective experience is generated through interactions between outer events and internal impressions.”This lovely & thought provoking piece by
: “I’m now in my late 20s, and friendship seems to me to be a beautiful, difficult, wonderful, fragile thing.”This heart-breaking, tender piece by
. “For some reason, you stay. For as long as you can, you stay.”Love this piece by
in . “Surrounded by my thirty-odd-year library, it made me question when I stopped double-checking the back of wardrobes?”Beautiful piece by
in . “The ever present connectedness of this life, the atoms of others within the fabric of our being, yet to become life in some other organism. This is my own elixir.”The wisdom in this piece by
. “Happiness is not a steady state. Unless nature blessed you with a sunny temperament, you create it one moment at a time.”This wonderful piece by
. “Eventually, the pain of remaining silent outweighs the risk of being seen, and that is when we must begin to share our work with the world.”Love these patterns & pictures by
. “Railing shadows across four different textures.”“Aren’t words just wonderful?” Love this piece here by
. Lovely.Stunning words by
. “Because learning is not about readiness, it is about willingness.”Love this comforting piece by
in . “Listen, I get it. You dream of those easy-going mornings when life moves at a snail’s pace. You listen to the animals wake outside your window, immersed in nature, and living your days in tune with a simple, grounded existence.”Beautiful words by
from . “But at least for now, at least for this very moment, life is this overgrown country lane. A chalk-blue butterfly. A hawthorn.”Wonderful words & pictures by
. “A feathered prince of darkness waits patiently for a mouse to make its move…”Love this beautiful piece by
. “Rooted in nature and appreciating life, I follow ancestral threads sown in childhood and find solace by the sea.”Beautiful words & images by
, . “let me tuck under covers and press into corners of ice-kissed windows, as i learn to recognize and savour the light in the dark.”Beautiful piece by
. “I savor/ of loving/arms in/a melancholy.”Love this thought-provoking piece by
in . “Time, too, seems especially contracted and muddled. I cannot believe it’s already April, that three months have passed.”Beautiful piece by
. “The tender blossom tree, and my soul, will need my care and attention, nourishment and protection against drought, wind and storms.”“Splashes of love creating music/on the umbrella of my heart.” Love this piece by
in .Beautiful, nostalgic piece by
. “Midlife, it seems, is awash in nostalgia.”Tender & poignant words by
in . “But sometimes a dream is life and living to me.”Powerful & honest piece by
. “Shame is a heavy burden.”Love this wise piece by
. “Perfection is a myth. How freeing is that?”Lovely piece by
. “It is warm and the sun is shining. What could be more perfect than a walk along the river.”Love this beautiful introduction by
in “So, it doesn’t really matter where and when you start, and it doesn’t really matter if you haven’t figured it all out before you begin – just start and see where the adventure takes you.”Lovely piece here by
. “Light-filled beings everywhere I see,Their sparkling eyes filled with mystery.”
Love these words and photos by
. “Then, I had this sense that I was seeing the world around me with a whole new level of vibrancy.”Stunning piece by
in . “the scent is as intoxicating as that of the May flowers blooming just outside my window.”Powerful, evocative poem by
. “I tuck silver strands behind ears meant for listening, hold with hands made to mend…”Love this prompt on sound penned so poetically by
. “Birdsong and cat paws on a wooden floor and the rain pitter pattering on my windows before bed time.”Beautiful poem by
. “a sorcery of sunshine and seasons.”Beautiful piece on birds by
. “I love birds for their beauty, their stillness, their elegance in flight. Their ability to reach new heights.”Love this wonderful piece by
, . “As I danced I let myself feel the pain, but I also allowed myself to feel pleasure. Those two feelings are not mutually exclusive. They can’t be.”Love this piece full of beauty and compassion by
. “but in my experience we need to stop for a moment and witness it all with compassionate eyes.”Beautiful, wise piece by
here. “Walking in the quiet forests, finding ample evidence of time’s accrual, I become aware of strata of time within myself.”Lovely, lovely piece by
here. “May you lean into trust this spring knowing that, with each practice, the leaning gets easier.”Beautiful poem by
. “The breeze brings me back to meTrusting myself sets me free.”
Lovely poem full of nostalgia by
, . “Remember the time we would sit together by the river? When the waves gushed down and softened the rocks into pebbles and thrust little fish up with the current?”Lovely, evocative writing by
in . “Before us lay a mass of rebar, granite, marble, tile, windows, refrigerator door, chunks of cements, bed frames.”Really lovely words by
. “it is these moments of light that fill me, that feed my soul.”Beautiful piece by
, . “A walk in itself has enormous benefits - time with friends is never wasted…”Wonderful poem by
in . “Shape yourself/in flow with/the prevailing winds.”Stunning piece by
here. “when we remember what we’ve grown through already, that we can come home.”Poignant, thought-provoking piece by
. “Silence has a sound; the sound of Creation. Creation was born of the light that surrounds stillness…”Lovely poem by
here. “What if we lit a candle of ancient fuelfrom wax…”
Love these words and conversations here by
.Love these words & photos by
in . “like a winter hare embraced by spring.”Lovely words & photos by
here. “I almost forgot that rain could smell something.”Wonderful poem by
. Especially love this image, “A man walking outside/ Slowly, with a frayed briefcase in his hands.”Beautiful piece by
in . “The house shelters our bodies and our imaginations, along with our ancestral history and memories.”Love this poem on music by
in . “ Touching the strings of your being…”Beautiful piece on Edward Thomas by
in .Lovely piece and recipe here by
in .Love this lovely piece by
. “What if my sacred task in this life is to speak of the wonder of nature?”Wonderful poem by
. “I nourish wind between the silver tendrils from my core”Lovely musical rendition by
, . And lovely poem by . Listen to ’s piece here, and read ’s piece here.Beautiful poem by
. “A lifelong reverie, bound byBeautiful piece by
in . “I believe in living slowly and immediately. I advocate for a slow life because life feels fuller when savoured daily.”
Gosh, Trivarna, you made my made by including me in your list. What a generous, painstaking endeavor this is, to add so many of the pieces you enjoyed to your own truly gorgeous piece. There is often so much beauty around is, it’s simply a matter of looking at it carefully. I particularly loved your pebbles warmed by a child’s hand. Thank you for all of this ❤️
Thank you so very much for the mention, Trivarna! I'm honored, and once again reminded of the generosity of the Substack community. This list is gorgeous, each item a sprinkle of magic. My favorites are the memories that pop up out of the blue and how songs are like direct portals to certain memories.