In the deep Midwinter
We are in the deluge times, it seems, where the rain raineths every day. And not a genteel sort of drizzle that spangles your hair and makes your coat glisten. This is deep rain. Heavy rain. The kind of rain that seeps under your collar, finds new gaps in your boots and weighs down the branches of the trees with its eternal, heavy wet.
That said, after a night of rain, we were treated to a cold and bright rising of the midwinter sun this morning. After feeding the birds, I have made the most of the deluge times call for us to be indoors and tending to our homes, our people by decorating the house, doing a little baking and taking time to sort out the corners of my house.
You know the corners I mean. They are the ones that have become cluttered with old seed packets, bits of enevelopes with scribbled reminders on, feathers and stones gathered on walks, the lids from long-dry pens, hair grips, paper clips, red rubber postie bands and corks from celebratory bottles. These corners are poems to a year spent as human.
December sunrise over Rodborough Common
This has been as year where the phrase “count your blessings” has never been more apt. Despite ill health (including a serious episode of it), work insecurity, global nonsense from men who were not told ‘no’ often enough when growing up, and family worries, we have had an abundance of blessings.
Good friends, a sound roof over our heads, work that took us to interesting places. The allotment fed us, new landscapes nourished us. Art and old buildings and new books and new adventures. New views to feast our eyes on, people we love to feast with. Terrible cats who charm us and make us laugh. A garden full of jasmine and roses and lilac. Each other.
My phone breaking which, in turn, led me to rediscover books and reintroduced the blissful pleasure of sitting with a coffee and the Saturday paper and no demands on my time. I have been disconnected from the wider world of social media, but reconnected with my mind, my attention span, my creativity, the craft of others.
Costumes at the Swan Theatre exhibition. Can i please have this to wear for high days and holidays?
As we turn from the darkest days back towards the light, I shall be rereading some winter favourites, wrapping presents in newspaper with fat luscious velvet ribbons, toasting those I love and have loved.
I wish you all a merry, peaceful solstice.
