The solstice season approaches

We've been enjoying snow showers off and on all day. Christmas shopping isn't quite all done, but we think we can see the end of it from here. Our dogs have almost forgiven us for abandoning them to the Daughter Person [DP] and Son-In-Law [SIL] for a whole week. But they (the dogs) don't want to let us get too far away or out of sight.

the one in the middle is a slow starter

Photo by J. Harrington

The amaryllises haven't yet started to bloom, but two of the three on the windowsill have grown the lance shaped stem that should eventually produce a flower. The third one is definitely a slow starter. We may end up with an Easter amaryllis.

soon, we will celebrate the turning of the sun

Photo by J. Harrington

Downy woodpeckers once again are visiting the refilled suet feeders and a pileated stopped by briefly this morning. The Spirit of Christmas is slowly settling over the land, at least we hope so. The Winter Solstice is one week away. We'll probably pass on burning the back yard brush pile and settle for a fire in the portable fire pit the DP and SIL bought awhile back. We're not quite sure whether it's our Celtic heritage reasserting itself or something else, but our pagan leanings seem to get stronger as we age.

                     Winter Solstice

By Hilda Morley

A cold night crosses

our path

                  The world appears

very large, very

round now       extending

far as the moon does

                                        It is from

the moon this cold travels

                                        It is

the light of the moon that causes

this night reflecting distance in its own

light so coldly

                                          (from one side of

the earth to the other)

                                        It is the length of this coldness

It is the long distance

between two points which are

not in a line        now

                                       not a

straightness       (however

straight) but a curve only,

silver that is a rock reflecting

                                                      not metal

but a rock accepting

distance

                     (a scream in silence

where between the two

points what touches

is a curve around the world

                                                      (the dance unmoving).

new york, 1969

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