Tag Archives: sky

120. Simpsons Sky (Humour 7)


When my husband and I saw this sky he started singing the theme tune from the Simpsons TV show. It took me a couple of seconds, and then I couldn’t stop laughing. It really does look like the cartoon clouds in the opening titles. Whenever we see a sky like this now we say, “Oh look, a Simpsons sky!” and so a new Wyattism is born. It is satisfying to make comedic connections. In fact, so much of comedy is about connecting unlikely things. If you have the sight to make those leaps, it enriches so much of life, communication, and contemplation.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

105. Outside and Inside (Juxtaposition 5)


Trapped inside by this illness, I have found my inner world far larger than I could ever have imagined. Sometimes though, stepping out into the world, even into our tiny back garden, the size of “outside” is overwhelming. The sky, particularly, which enables us to envisage freedom wherever we are, is mind-blowingly huge. Feeling now the same way about the vastness of creativity and universe of love and prayer inside of myself, there is some comfort in the smallness of the inside of my house, my bedroom (where I spend 99% of my time) and even of my body, in its reassuring constant confines of size and shape. We are creatures of cell and shell, in lots of ways, and need that boundary between inner and outer worlds.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

21. Pearl Sky (sense of wonder)


With every colour available to you, you choose the softest oyster. An act of humility in an insanely neon world. And this whisper of colour shouts out the glory and wisdom of God, a shimmering that has me bending me to my knees.

Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

N.B. from now on I’ll be putting the type of seeing we are looking at in brackets each day so we remember it.


10. Sundog


Worshipped if we turn two letters around, and see you as false gods, as you are false suns, rainbow reflections in crystals of ice. Better as the glimpsing of haloes, the side panels of the sky’s dressing table mirror, each image calling back to one before. Or maybe Anne’s Gog and Magog, hounds of hell now sanctified and guarding heaven’s hearth.  Bright eternal wedding bands, frozen spectrums, and a sign of ancient vows, as well as proof that even light can be fractured, and that angels do have wings.

Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017



123: Beach

123 beach

Free and wild, newly released, here you stand still at first, on the edges of the ocean, where the sea meets the shore. What is there to do then, but close your brown eyes in wonder, let the salt tang whip through your mane, and bow your head, ready to charge at the future? Run, canter, gallop, the wet sand flying up behind you, the curves of tide seeping back and forth over your hoofmarks. Raise your neck and whinny in the pleasure of vast fresh horizons.

Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2015