Last week I complained that with all the different days that people celebrate, every day has to do multiple duty, meaning that each week has far more than seven days.
But it’s not just the days that fly by apace.
Continue reading “summertime blues”
My co-author, Lucía, and I are still working on the final pieces for the third of the Modern Pagan Prayers books, which will include pieces for each of the eight festivals of the wheel of the year.
We’re definitely on the home straight, but the last few weeks haven’t been very productive, not least because it’s not particularly easy to write about summer and harvest time in the middle of winter when temperatures are sub-zero or the wind is wuthering and the rain is soldiering down.
Continue reading “rumours of spring”
To be frank, despite the post title, I don’t think I’ve seen many signs of spring yet this year. But I did open the kitchen door wide on Friday morning to a bright early morning and think perhaps the air smelt fresher and milder. Then, of course, there was cold rain later on and yesterday brought sleet, although not the heavy snow that had been forecast.
Of course spring, like most of the seasons, is a wonderfully confusing concept: when does it actually begin?
Continue reading “signs of spring”
So, in the last post – in vino veritas – I was whining and whingeing on about the neverending nothingness and nonoccurrences of the coronavirus lockdown and bemoaning my own lack of life and liberty (never mind the chance to pursue any happiness).
Then I ended up finding a bright sunrise at the bottom of a wineglass. And that got me thinking…
Continue reading “unseen & unseasonal”
People laugh at the British because we talk about the weather so much and so frequently. But having lived in Spain for many years, in an area where it might be hot, sunny and dry for months on end, I think I appreciate why the weather is such a popular conversation topic here. Not only can it change radically from one day to the next, but it can be completely different in two places that are only a few miles apart.
All over the festive break, I was enviously watching the social media feeds of people I know well and consider to live “locally”, as they posted the most amazing scenes of frost and snow and talked of sledging and snowmen. But until this week I didn’t have anything of the sort to post myself.
Continue reading “early one morning”
