Seeking the Gold.

When I was younger, I loved silver, & seemed to prefer it over gold, for jewelry.
As I aged, it seemed I 'grew into' gold. I decided I did like it, & chose a wide, plain, gold band for a wedding ring. Wide was not fashionable when I got married, narrow had become the fashion, but I stuck to my choice. I had always loved my Grandmother's wedding ring, which was wide & plain.

As I have matured I have discovered there is much gold in the world to be discovered & the best gold of all, is not a cold metal.

When I was a teenager, I had an Autograph Book. It had Black Watch Tartan silk on the the cover, & had been my mother's when she was young. She had not collected any autographs, so she told me I could have the book. One of my first autographs I got was from a dearly loved Uncle.

He wrote, "All that Glisters is not Gold. Sometimes it is the buttons on my tunic." He had been a soldier, who spent most of his time in World War 2 in a Prison Camp. He returned a very ill man, who probably would have died had he not been released, and returned to New Zealand in the nick of time.

I collected a lot of interesting autographs in that book, & sadly, when I went nursing some one took it & never returned it to me. It seemed odd, because the autographs were so personal, I always wondered what a stranger would find as a reason to keep the book.

These days I find Rich Gold lies where ever I look.
Gold more precious than the cold metal variety. Gold of such warmth, your heart is almost burnt from the contact, ~ certainly warmed to a degree no metal could impart.

There is the rich gold of friendship, that stands the test of time, & endures through ups, downs, good fortune, and bad.

The gold of young love, pure, innocent, given & recieved so trustingly. Even the trust can be golden.

The gold discovered with the joy of marriage. The gold of children, whose lives bring a special magic, golden glow. The absolute Gold of Grandchildren.

Leaving all those aside, because of course, not everyone marries, nor has children, there are many other sources of gold to be had, with no mere monetry value to be gained, or lost.

Look at these gorgeous golden funghi. I have no idea if they are mushroom or toadstool, poisonous or benign, but I fell in love with them, growing so bravely up through the leaf mulch under the Gum trees. Little Golden Miracles.


I also love spring flowers, love bulbs with their special magic of perfume, & beauty. Gold to me. Gold I managed to rescue from Gom's 'Garden Vandal' fork!
Look at the rich gold in the heart of the blooms.

There is gold in the gorgeous lemons on our tree. Their fruit is so sweet I can drink it pure. I know the leaves look a sickly yellow- gold!- but the fruit has been great this year, & it has more young fruit, plus more beautiful delicate blossoms, so it can't be too sick? I hope not. The idea of a male, preferably, a beer drinker, peeing under the tree has been suggested, but I can not find any one to oblige! The tree is situated on a somewhat raised bank, & I am sure should anyone 'go' out there, they might be spotted, & then who knows what would ensue. Accusations of 'flashing' from the neighbours, spring to mind! We have great neighbours, & would never wish to offend anyone! Perhaps when the Maple regains its lovely screening leaves??

There is gold in the warm sun, which has been pouring into our back yard. I spend time reading, with the warmth pouring onto me, as I lie on the sun lounger. Goms sits dreaming or reading on his swing seat, waiting until I come indoors, so he can lie on the lounger. We have 2 other loungers, but he has packed them up, & does not care to use them.

There are my golden sunsets I love, though we have not had any spectacular displays lately. No clouds & the fine clear skies blush very softly at sunset.

I have noted these past few days, there has been a beautiful, mysterious, perfume in the air, but I cannot locate the source. Some tree or plants in the neighbourhood must be blooming, & the soft scent is so soothing on the light breeze. Golden to my senses.

Ben Harper, Gold to Me.