rumours of spring

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.
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unseen & unseasonal

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…
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all manner of things

As so often is the case, when I started to think about what to write about in today’s blog post, I came up a complete blank. My mind was about as empty of ideas as the milk bottles on the doorstep in the top picture are of milk.

And now I have that image there, I shall pause on the threshold to contemplate the joys of the English language, which allows us to differentiate so clearly between a milk bottle and a bottle of milk. The distinction could be made, of course, by using prepositions – “a bottle for” rather than “a bottle of” – but I think the way we do it is better.
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all a bit vague, really

It’s been one of those weeks. A week when it’s been impossible to settle to get anything done. What with the state of the States, the continued looming menace of Brexit, and what the New York Times referred to as “England’s spotty lockdown”, the uncertainty seems almost palpable.

Clients are unwilling to make decisions and there’s a general feeling of the world being on pause, waiting for other people to move before we see where the opportunities are and where we should direct our energies.
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A closer look

Autumn is quite definitely here and the plants that grow in pots in my yard are looking decidedly the worse for wear. Yes, there is still a fair amount of greenery out there, but the flowers are all gone and there’s precious little sign that any more will come.

Well, I suppose “all gone” is not strictly true. There is a single blossom on one of the geraniums.
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