Painting a thousand words

Ah, photos made for a caption competition :-)

Day of Candles...

...really, isn't every day Candle Day?

However, it is 2 February - Candlemas and Groundhog Day - again. Buds are budding, sap is quickening, light is increasing.



Photo: Carlingford, New Year's Eve 

"Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared." - Buddha

I hope the year ahead is filled with light for all :-)

 

Threshold of Spring

by R M Rilke

Harshness gone. All at once caring spreads over

the naked grey of the meadows.

Tiny rivulets sing in different voices.

A softness, as if from everywhere,

is touching the earth.

Paths appear across the land and beckon.

Surprised once again, you sense

its coming in the empty tree.





And in belated, blog-catching-up kinda news:

Last weekend of winter

A pretty wholesome weekend: lazy breakfasts, knitting, writing, yoga, reading, catch-up with family & friends, planning dinners and outings, letter-writing (a rare treat) and curled-up evenings in the cottage with my little black cat.

Pretty scrumptious :-)

And so onwards with the week!

Christmas Eve

Well, all is sorted. Or sorted enough, at least :-)
Hope the Season is safe, snuggly and simply magical.

Merry Christmas, all :-)

Pre-Christmas Miscellany

Christmas shopping is nearly done. I probably would have got more done today, but I took refuge in Peter's Pub with a friend: chilled out conversation, toasted sandwiches and hot ports left us both feeling a smidge sedated :-)

In other news, it's Day 4 of Max's absence. Knowing that cat, he's probably been adopted at Farmleigh, and is currently being fed kitty treats whilst reclining on a chaise longue. Still though, the conditions out there are severe... I hope he's okay.

Anyhoo, here's a few piccies from the weekend, when my brother and sister-in-law had us over for a scrumptious lunch. The photos make one thing clear: if you ever want to steal the show, wear a tutu :-)

Thicker than water

Snow snow snow... the city is transformed. Flying buttresses of cathedrals are traced out in white; wrought iron railings and slender rowan branches bear their own thickness of snow, like negative doubles laid over.

Yes, there were snowstorms to walk through, but today - before it turns to ice - the snow created a beautiful cityscape.

Yet families are kept separated, countries apart. Or kept together, but in the wrong county, figuring out how best to spend an unplanned Christmas on the spot. Plans are being made and adjusted and re-adjusted.

Thoughts of families enduring reminded me of a sculpture by the very fabulous Liam O'Neill. At the weekend I saw it dusted with snow for the first time. The white really outlined the four figures, harmoniously snuggled in together.

The sculpture is called 'Family'. Of course :-)

The darkest hour, before

For those skywatchers and solstice folk, tomorrow marks something unusual. A lunar eclipse will coincide with the winter solstice.

Over at http://shadowandsubstance.com/ you can see how the moon will move through the eclipse, taking on shades of coppery red for a brief time.

Apparently the solstice/eclipse has only happened once in the last two thousand years, in the seventeenth century. You'd wonder how people must have seen it thousands of years ago: coming out to witness - to capture or invoke - the sun on its shortest day, and seeing the moon turn red. Whether auspicious or not, it was probably not a sign to be ignored.

A NASA article on the eclipse is o'er yonder:
http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2010/17dec_solsticeeclipse/

The Many Faces of Eve

Yesterday evening was a festive delight. My timing for babysitting meant that I got to decorate the Christmas tree - boxes of baubles, tinsel and hand-made decorations awaited :-)

We made a start, both of us pausing before hanging a decoration, assessing where it might best go. 'Are you strict about decorations?' the babysittee asked.

I thought of how we trimmed the tree as children. To the music of John Denver and The Muppets: A Christmas Together, we set about it with gusto. We all pointed out empty branches, baubles were shifted because they were too much, too little, the wrong colour. And at the very end, the angel hair was put on strand by strand.

Over the years I experienced other trees, other habits. The first time someone flung clumps of angel hair at the tree I had cried 'wait!' before I knew what I was doing. These days, I reckon whatever your decorating methodology might be, the tree ends up looking pretty magical.

Which was how it looked last night :-)

Away Day

I took today off work to babysit my nephew & nieces. They've grown in all kinds of ways since I was last with them. Little bundles of high-energy delights.

Which of course means, I am about to flump the Great Flump :-)