The Christmas decorations are coming down, except for a couple that are frozen in place until we get a thaw. On February 1 / 2 we’ll celebrate the feast of Imbolc "the first of a trio of Spring celebrations, since it is the time of the first appearance of the snowdrop, and of the melting of the snows and the clearing of the debris of Winter.” In our North Country, snowdrops are more likely to appear after the Spring Equinox. That’s not going to keep me from hoping for a milder winter and early thaw. We’ll see how cold for how long next week’s single digit polar invasion lasts.
To brighten the place and make it cheery for Imbolc and then Valentine’s Day, we’ve ordered some bright red candles. Yesterday I started to ease off the holiday treats. If I continue to behave myself, Christmas candies may well last until Valentines and I may get my blood sugar closer to where it should be. Plus, now that I think about it, it’s not all that long until St. Patrick’s Day so we need to bake a few loaves of Irish Soda Bread this winter to keep in practice.
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| fly lines: even grownups can have too many toys
Photo by J. Harrington
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Speaking of practice, I demonstrated today that I’m way out of practice managing fly lines. I had forgotten how quickly and easily a fly line stripped from its reel can coil itself into a viper’s nest of knots and tangles. I managed to (literally) straighten out the mess and get the line back on the reel after cleaning both the reel and the line. In the process, it looks like I may have ended up with a spare reel I’d lost track of. Getting organized for spring is going to require an earlier than usual start this year since the Better Half also admitted she’s sort of lost track of her rods and reels. However, I’ll be among the first to confess these kinds of problems indicate a first world privileged life for which I’m becoming more and more grateful.
On Seeing a Tuft of Snowdrops in a Storm
When haughty expectations prostrate lie,
And grandeur crouches like a guilty thing,
Oft shall the lowly weak, till nature bring
Mature release, in fair society
Survive, and Fortune’s utmost anger try;
Like these frail snow-drops that together cling,
And nod their helmets smitten by the wing
Of many a furious whirlblast sweeping by.
Observe the faithful flowers! if small to great
May lead the thoughts, thus struggling used to stand
The Emathian phalanx, nobly obstinate;
And so the bright immortal Theban band,
Whom onset, fiercely urged at Jove’s command,
Might overwhelm, but could not separate!
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