Category: Just writing

Just writing

May They Not Cut Any More Trees

nhpureandsimple

Sometimes you just ask for a solution to a problem, but instead of fixing it, they cut it down.

That’s exactly what happened to two trees in our garden.

The story began when the road workers explained how the trees were affecting some of the wires on the posts along the road. 

Well… I haven’t grown any trees myself.

I wish I had. Isn’t it such a wonderful deed.

Of course it is.

When we moved into our new house, there were these lovely but enormous trees. 

I really loved them, and I did my best to trim their long branches.

Anyway, the workers recently came to fix the problem.

I expected they would cut the long branches, or worse all of them, not the entire creature.

They cut down two big trees. 

It was a rainy April day, really rainy, and windy too.

It felt as if the other trees and perhaps the birds as well, were crying after the loss of their friends.

Now the wires are safe.

The light posts are clear.

But the old tree spots look different without the trees.

It feels as if a big secret eye is hanging between the surrounding trees.

Thankfully, the nearby tree is leaning towards that empty space, as if trying to cover the secret eye.

And there’s another small one growing just a step or two away, which will soon block the whole eye.

If you cut down something, perhaps because it’s dangerous, toxic,or simply inconvenient, there will always be other better possibilities.

Some wounds can heal themselves and overcome any emptiness, any secret eye.

May they not cut anymore trees in May.

Oh my… is it already the first of May?

Actually I think we’ve had enough of April this year. 

It overstayed its visit.

With garden and trees thoughts, 

Nahla

Just writing

It Took The Evil Eye Away

nhpureandsimple

In my culture, when something breaks, burns, or gets damaged in any way, people usually say, “Thank God, it took the evil eye away.”

Funny how my grandfather, many years ago, used to laugh and say “Doesn’t this evil eye go anywhere else? It had almost broken all of the cups.”

Actually, I follow the tradition.

I never wept over spilled milk or a broken cup. 

I repeat the same phrase and feel relieved. 

I thank God that the damage was in things that can be replaced, not any one of us. 

What disturb me and what I make a fuss about is the mess. That’s when I start yelling at everyone around me to be careful, to watch out, and definitely to be safe. 

By the way, I didn’t break anything today, but I did have some funny, slightly annoying moments.

So… instead of making a nice, fresh orange juice, the machine grew grumpy and violent. It started shaking as if it were going to explode, splashing juice everywhere including me. Of course, I unplugged it, but then I hit the cup, and a river of juice came flooding across the counter. 

After cleaning the mess, I went to have some fresh water before heading out. But for some reason, the glass didn’t feel comfortable on the mat and decided to lay down for a bit. Then, again, another river flooded the table, and headed straight towards both my phone and iPad. No way, I gasped, snatching my precious devices just before the flood reached them.

Then I went out, happy with the sun, the blue sky, and the steps I was taking until the wind decided to make another mess. Not with rain, but by blowing pollen everywhere. 

I came back with a headache, itchy eyes, and a blocked nose.

Could it be another evil eye?

No, it is the spring evil.

Let me introduce the most unwelcome visitor: Mr. Spring Hay Fever. 

Wasn’t it just a wonderful day! 

With windy spring thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

A Story Inside a Non-Fiction Book

nhpureandsimple

So… here I’m again, repeating the same story that started at the beginning of this year.

It’s about my determination to read more non-fiction than fiction.

So far, I’ve been reading non-fiction about different topics and I’m really enjoying them.

It wasn’t until a few days ago that I started reading  Of Men and Plants by Maurice Messegue. From its very beginning, the book turned out to be the story of the author himself, who was apparently a very famous herbalist.

I’ve really enjoyed every part of his story so far.

But… have you ever tried to put into practice some of the knowledge you read about?

Well… I tried, but of course not as a herbalist.

What happened is that I started looking around at different plants, not just the familiar ones I know and use regularly. 

To my surprise, I discovered there’s rosemary in my garden, but there are other plants that look totally unfamiliar.

I used Google search, and it gives some information but with a few warnings, as if I am going to eat them. 

I’m really thinking about asking my neighbours.

Wouldn’t that be a good idea.

Anyway, ever since I started reading about herbs, my instagram feed has been full of herbalists and herbs. 

Can it be a coincidence?

Or did everyone become suddenly interested in herbs.

Sometimes, I feel as if I am not just looking at  the herbs, but I’m almost smelling them.

Could this actually happen in the future?

Please no.

There’s already enough madness on social media.

But in the reels, nothing seems toxic or dangerous. Even the dandelion, that cute little yellow flower, I’ve been known for years as a weed, turns out to be nutritious and full of health benefits.

Sometimes, I wonder why they never taught us about different herbs at school.

At least then no one would mistake a dandelion for a useless weed.

I think I’m going to post more about this book.

With dandelion thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Why the Crow Is so Mean.

nhpureandsimple

Yes, I saw it — that crow who seemed not only overfed, but also a tyrant, a bully, and certainly greedy.

Everything happened as I was getting the clean laundry out in the sun, for we haven’t seen her much since the beginning of spring.

But she kept this promise.

Do you know about this promise.

Here’s my recent post, in case you’re curious.

https://pure-and-simple.co.uk/2026/04/17/its-a-sunny-day/

Anyway, a few seconds before the crow landed on the tree, a pigeon had just came back to her nest in a same tree. 

Of course, I didn’t see her nest but I saw her slip into the branches and disappear, which makes perfect sense if she has a nest hidden there.

She was cute, looked happy and lively in the sunny day. 

Just as I turned back to go into the house,

I heard the sudden flapping of wings and then that familiar, unpleasant sound of the crow.

I turned around and looked up, 

and there was the pigeon flying away from her tyrant, whose claws gripped the highest branch as if he meant to dominate the whole landscape.

Surprisingly another pigeon came to the rescue, not to fight with the bully. 

Pigeons aren’t cowards, thought.

They simply prioritise their safety and peace of mind.

So, it seems the second pigeon was checking on the nest before flying to support her friend on the other tree. 

Then both pigeons flew away with the same quick rhythm and lightness under the blue sky.

The crow was still up there on the tree, 

interest in nothing but the disturbance of peace of other creatures.

Soon, another senior crow, or perhaps one of those gigantic seagulls will chase him to the ground, I thought as I turned to go into the house wondering why crows are so mean. 

How I wish I could have taken a photo of that scene.

But I was more interested in watching it.

With peace against mean thoughts,

Nahla

(The pigeon in the photo is not the heroine.)

Just writing

It’s a Sunny Day

nhpureandsimple

Yes, finally the sun is gracing us with some light and warmth.

Still, the wind insists on extending its visit, bringing along its strong-gust companion.

But at least we can say we have a long, sunny day.

It seems the sun is pleased with our happiness.

It feels as though she’s smiling, spreading even more of her shining rays.

But I can hear her whispering that tomorrow she’ll be off on a mission.

Yes, she says she is going to push the wind and its companion as far as possible. 

East or west, she hasn’t decided yet.

Oh, she promises to come back soon to stay longer — a week or more.

Isn’t that great news.

I checked the weather forecast, and it’s all true.

She wasn’t lying.

She’s coming back on Sunday,

and will stay for one whole week,

and hopefully even more.

Time to get ready for a long, warm walk. 

With sunny-day thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

He Thought He Owned The Mine

nhpureandsimple

Some people carry this ego that swells until it bursts.

Have you ever met anyone like that?

There’re plenty of them — especially on the news.

By the way, I borrowed the title from this old saying: 

I not only thought I had struck gold, I also thought that I owned the mine.

Isn’t it so true?

After one success, some feel they are the best in the world.

After one massive profit, some believe they control the entire market.

After reaching the king’s throne, some imagine they will rule the whole world. 

Nonsense.

The predecessors of this kind — with all their knowledge, wealth, and power — left the world not only empty-handed, but with a history marked by shame and disgrace.

People remember that kind for their evils, just as a reminder, a moral lesson, a path we’re warned not to follow.

Has your mother ever warned you not to listen to the whispers of the devils?

Haven’t you ever wondered how some people have excelled the devil in his own craft?

Actually, the devil himself would be so astonished by the high level those people reach that he might apply for early retirement before his eternal journey back home to hell.

By the way, the saying above doesn’t apply to these ego-swollen humans.

Here it is again; 

I not only thought I had struck gold, I also thought that I owned the mine.

It applies to those with a nagging conscience — those ones who admit their mistakes and try not only to fix them but also to learn from them.

Though the devils know their mistakes; in fact, that’s what they live for and by, they neither fix them nor learn from them.

But for humans, it is never too late to learn.

Isn’t it.

 

With humble human thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

Winter in April

nhpureandsimple

It’s April, and how it arrived so quickly, I’ve no idea.

But according to the calendar: it’s officially the first of April.

But why are you stretching the heavy blanket of winter?

You’re supposed to bring spring with its warm sun, blue sky, and colourful flowers.

Up to this very moment, it’s freezing cold here,

and rainy,

and the only colourful flowers are the ones in the supermarkets.

Not only that, you’re bringing along news of an unexpected guest: the wind.

She’s planning a short stay for two days soon, I heard.

Honestly, earlier that day, I thought it might be one of your fool tricks.

But no — it wasn’t.

You’ve just announced, clear and clean, that winter’s mood is still on.

But March announced that the summertime is already here, 

with a promise of long, bright days.

What’s wrong this year?

If you had a fight with long March,

or if you’re simply confused by the chaos in the world,

please don’t make us scapegoats for others’ madness.

Anyway, welcome April—

and thank you for the spark of sun that shone just as I finished this post.

Is this a promise of new hope.

Please be kind.

With kind and hopeful thoughts, 

Nahla

Just writing

Yes, definitely — it’s Light

nhpureandsimple

Well.. it’s rainy and windy here in my place.

Really, the weather has been so unsettling over the last week, 

and the week before,

and perhaps the week before the week before. 

Fine. 

It’s been like that for a while,

and this ’while’ might be days, 

or months,

or even years.

But today isn’t so grey as it used to be.

The sky is bright,

not too bright,

but bright enough to show some of its hidden light.

The kind of long awaited light you expect to see at the end of the tunnel,

for you don’t want to walk along a narrow tunnel all of your life, do you?

You sure want to get out,

to breathe the fresh air,

to feel the warmth of the sun,

and the gaze at that magnificent azure in the clear sky.

It’s Light, you scream.

Definitely light, your tears roll down your face.

Perhaps your prayers for 

hope,

peace,

and…

justice. 

are finally being answered. 

With light and bright thoughts,

Nahla

Just writing

New Eyes

nhpureandsimple

Has it ever happened to you, as you’re walking along the road, that something suddenly strikes you— some details that seems totally new to your eyes

But you walk the same road every day.

How come you’ve missed them?

Perhaps it’s because you always leave your glasses at home, you wonder.

Really?

But the thing you’ve just noticed is as obvious as the sun in a clear day.

Maybe you were so consumed by your own thoughts that you couldn’t really see your surroundings.

Fine, things happen.

But… have you ever considered how narrowly and vaguely you’ve been using your eyes — and for so long?

You’ve been looking without seeing.

You’ve been seeing without feeling.

Then one day, 

as you walk along the same road, 

you discover other real things—

that weren’t hidden,

that weren’t new, 

but were actually there. 

They always exist;

they just needed your new eyes to notice them,

and perhaps to contemplate them.

You look,

you gaze,

you stare,

and you finally realise you’re seeing with new eyes.

Was it a miracle?

Definitely.

A miracle that shows you how you can always have new eyes.

With new eyes and new thoughts,

Nahla  

Just writing

Reading Psychology

nhpureandsimple

Well… I’m pretty sure one of my recent posts was about the change in my reading genre. 

Reading and Mood Change

So far, I am following the plan just fine—reading nonfiction. 

Recently, I’ve started reading some psychology.

My first encounter with this subject was in my final year of high school, many years ago.

Honestly I remember nothing of those lessons except the teacher herself— even her name has slipped away. I remember her loud voice and sharp gaze, but I can’t get any closer to her name. 

But I do remember the name of my teacher from my first year of primary school.

Strange, isn’t it.

I loved my first primary teacher and I wept buckets when she left and moved away with her husband. 

Anyway, my psychology teacher crossed my mind as I stole a little time for reading. Time is tight these days, with Eid celebrations almost knocking on the door.

So… according to psychology, our memory machine is not only selective, but also clever and cruel. It doesn’t come with a button we can press to “save all” or “delete all.”

No.

It works professionally, by using its own unique selective strategy. 

It mainly saves the things you like the most, hate the most, or the things that hold your full concentration and consciousness.

Memory is not like history, which keeps a record of everything, though sometimes with some alterations and even some big lies.

Memory is a trustworthy keeper. It writes the minutes of the things that truly matter in your life, even those small details, those passing emotions, or those quiet, special moments.

And sometimes, out of the blue, it brings back one of those memories from many years ago.

Something that can make you smile, cry, or simply wonder as time pulls you back in a split second.

You find yourself back in that classroom, learning psychology, having no idea that years later you would be reading a psychology book explaining why you can’t remember your teacher’s name.

Simply because you neither loved or hated her, your memory saved only what had caught your attention back then — the special tone of her voice and her sharp gaze

And… thanks to psychology, I found the little distraction that inspired me to write this post.

With these reading–psychology thoughts,

Nahla