Thick fog this morning. Drizzle and greyness. Winter.
I had to push to get work done at first. But as I got on with jobs, they seemed to become easier, more fun.
By afternoon, the fog had lifted. The sun appeared, and the sky brightened into blue. My heart began to lift.
I can still see my breath, but it’s 5pm and still daylight. I don’t need as many layers of clothing.
Then, in our little grove, in the midst of a stand of trees past the badger setts, are the first snowdrops. Just one patch, with the rest not quite there yet – but those white heads are here again. They made it.
Spring is on the way. We can lift our heads and breathe…
Imbolc blessings, my friends.
I knew there’d be days like this. Just busy, all day long, and finally needing to blog… but with a very tired brain after work and travelling.
The Spring night is chilly, but I step outside and look up. The stars are shining in a cloudless sky. The road nearby is silent, with most houses dark as their occupants sleep. I am home and safe with my family.
My shoes are very thin, and I can feel the grass and stones beneath my feet. I look down. This is my land.
I stand at the top of my hill and give thanks. That I am called upon to do what I do, that I am able, and that I am without the words to truly describe my honour and appreciation.
Feeling very blessed in that starlight tonight.
Walking the dogs this grey and damp morning, a beautiful sight stopped me in my tracks. The first bright flowers of blossom in our wee grove.
You can see the scrub that surrounds the area, before those who look after the land start work to clear it from the winter. But the hardy stalwarts come through each year – and like old friends, I’m so glad to see them.
I do love this hilltop, with the flourishing green and the lambs playing in nearby fields. May that wonder and joy never cease; and may we celebrate those we share our land with, wherever we are.