slightly festive

I don’t celebrate Christmas and try hard to avoid the consumer chaos, so this time of year is always a bit strange: I feel there should be something a little special, but am not quite sure why or what.

Some wintry weather might help – there’s nothing like a bright frosty morning for clearing the mind and restoring the spirit. But when I went for a brief walk in the park this morning there was really nothing particularly seasonal, just vast expanses of sodden leaves and an unpleasant amount of mud.
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counting chickens

The train’s delayed and while I wait,
I gauge my luck – or lack thereof –
in magpies: the furl of caping wings,
and splay-tailed swoop to perch
high in the winter cage of track-side trees
whose trunks are evergreened by ivy.

 
The magpies were too far away to get a photo, but this blackbird seemed to think that if he sat still enough I wouldn’t notice him.

blackbird in bare branches

fortunes

magpie

Three – four – nine – two; three – one:
random magpies map my life
in black and white.

magpies

One for sorrow, two for joy; three for a girl and four for a boy; five for silver, six for gold…

There were six magpies bickering in the trees by the river last night. Sadly, I fear they weren’t foretelling the imminent receipt of a large fortune, just the arrival of sunset over the lake:

sunset over lake