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Counting

A week ago Rhys, Banon and me set off into the wind and heavy rain to prepare for the coming of a new calendar year. Seems only yesterday but maybe that’s because each day since the wind and rain have definitely made a call if not stayed for the day and Wellington boots and wet muddy dog towels have been a constant presence.

The idea of pushing boundaries of personal physical strength and of blowing any cobwebs still clinging on to thought and heart always appeals to me on the last day of December. An announcement to my self that the journey continues and the responsibility for propulsion and intent is mine but that the fuel and the inspiration draws on much more.

As a non-mathematician numbers are not something I have ever found either excitement or solace in but have always understood their importance to many of those around me and tried to fathom out ways and means for numbers to play their part in my life that has meaning to a heart and mind not just an acceptance or theory.

Fearsome Wonder - Winter Solstice

As many people begin their Christmas celebrations in earnest I sit quietly thankful for the silence and the sense that the speeding trajectory that I’ve encountered of late on roads and in shops will have finally come to a halt:0)

My celebratory day was last Thursday when Winter Solstice was not just noted but as actively as I could manage engaged with.

I was not in any state to feast though did manage a bowl of delicious soup made all the more enjoyable for being shared with a friend. That the day needed four changes of clothing on my part gives clue to some of the juggling act I was also engaged in but all was worth the effort and even mess when measured against the rising I witnessed and was very much part of.

The day began early when the valley where I live was only vaguely aware of the coming light. The temperature had dropped below freezing and the air was tingly on the nose and enveloping of car windows but the fog that seemed to engulf the rest of the country rolled back a little so I decided to make my way up to the Brecon Beacons to face the mountain range where the son rises through a cleft which seems to have been created by the Earth itself to accentuate the moment.

New Year's Morning

The morning has woken to a bright crisp sun lit blue sky day filling the valley. It seems only right on the new day of a new year that the sense that we have really reached summer’s end was all around as I went from bird table to bird table, hanging fat balls and filling up nut cages whilst the breakfast queue grew by the minute. There was even a hint of ice on the bird bath and other water containers so I think that Winter may have puffed up its lungs and blew down the valley last night as it stretched itself in Siberia.