:: Winter Goodbye ::

"Winter goodbye, winter goodbye,
You may no longer stay.....
Springtime is on it's way.
Winter goodbye, winter goodbye"




I know there are things about winter I will miss. Cozy
book-ish days, crisp frosts, darkness and cold.



But somehow I need to farewell this winter. To let go of the long
journey that it has been. One of spiraling into myself, of deep
thought and reflection~to the point where I ached for spring.

Now I need to open myself to a kind of blooming from within. A
chance to outwardly show the efforts of this long inward journey.
For new things to manifest and for my life to flow in fresh
directions.

"In every winter's heart lies a quivering spring,
and behind the veil of each night, waits a smiling dawn..."

Kahlil Gibran

Drawing in.....

I am loving autumn just now. The
feeling of drawing inside, lighting the fire
and starting to get cosy. The little stash
of wool, almost as ripe as fruit in a basket,
just waiting to become something over the
the winter. The fungi that has so magically
appeared with the autumn rain and the light.
That beautiful golden, autumn sunshine.

How well it fits with this beautiful poem, which I so recommend

that you take courage and read aloud if only for your own pleasure.......

As I discovered after seeing the movie Bright Star. Keats should

really only be read aloud!

Ode to Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves

Run;

To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,

and fill all fruit with ripeness to the core:

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease.........

John Keats 1819

The full poem and more besides can be found here.

An expedition-of the finest sort!

There is something about creating your own entertainment
that is, I think almost magical-in a wonderful tailor made
kind of way. There is something fluid about it, how
you can never quite predict how things will turn out....... and
yet sometimes, the quest develops a life of its own
and becomes so very beautiful.



Like a couple of Sundays ago, when I found myself in fine
company, sitting painting on a tartan rug, whilst being showered
in a carpet of purple petals....and listening to poetry read aloud.



Perfect! And just what I needed.....although I didn't realise it
until that very moment.

::Daffodils::

::Daffodowndilly:

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,

She wore her greenest gown;

She turned to the south west

And curtsied up and down.

She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbour:

"Winter is dead."

A.A. Milne (Published 1924)

A nice surprise....

I heard a happy, earnest little voice singing in the
garden the other day.....

Spring is coming, spring is coming,

Birdies build your nest

Weave together straw and feather

Each one doing their best

Spring is coming, spring is coming

All around is fair

Shimmer, glimmer on the river

Joy is everywhere.......

I crept out to find........that my boy has at long last
discovered the joy of swinging himself!




What a lovely thing to discover with bare feet, in
the spring sunshine! How nice to have the unhurried
time to do just that.....

Early memories.....

I often wonder what memories my children will savour from
their early childhood. As I busy myself with all that caring for two
young children entails, I wonder and hope.......
I hope they will remember the small things amongst it all.....
the little vase of garden flowers on the meal table, the toys they
have watched me knit or sew, the smell of baking......
our slow walks in nature......
To me these things seem like little treasures in a sea of humble tasks.
I just like to think that some of these little moments of beauty
will become part of my children....and nourish them on their way.
........As they nourish me on my mothering journey.
I so love the words of Walt Whitman here........

There was a child went forth every day

And the first object he look'd upon

that object he became,

And that object became part of him

for the day or certain part of the day

Or for many years or stretching cycles

of years.......

Bread......

We bake our own bread.......sometimes. Its nice to see the sack of
Bio dynamic flour in the pantry, patiently waiting.....There is a
feeling of plenty just knowing it's there.
Then there is the fun and vigour of the wonderful transforming,
bread making process. A fabulous outlet for excess energy on
a rainy day.........





We have been greatly inspired on our bread making journey
by this wonderful book:






It conveys such a lovely sense of mind fullness in the
bread making process. (Not to mention inspiring my helpers
with recipes for dragon bread and campfire bread...cooked on
a stick!)
I have learnt to open my heart and knead a blessing into our
bread. And to reflect on a deeper level about the energy and
feeling that goes into the food that I cook.





And then of course there is the smell, that fills the house with a
lovely sense of anticipation and well being.
The perfect excuse for a feast and a favourite little blessing.....


The Harvest

The silver rain, the shining sun,

The fields where scarlet poppies run,

And all the ripples of the wheat,

Are in the bread that I do eat.

So when I sit for every meal

And say a grace, I always feel

That I am eating rain and sun,

And fields where scarlet poppies run....

Alice C. Henderson