Short days, wild winds, stormy seas. The glory of winter darkness hibernation, wrapping ourselves in cosy woollens, swaddling our spirits in the gestation time, quietening our minds, listening with stillness to the sounds of nature.
Here we are in the deep mid-Winter with arrows pointing back to Autumn and forwards to Spring in the eternal rhythm of the seasons.
The excerpts here show among the birds eggs and forest shadows a feature on Inner Wild in Belle Armoire magazine and below the Inner Wild Snowfall on Skin Bodice.
A little poem moment for you, Walter on Winter:
Winter
by Walter de la Mare
Green Mistletoe! Oh, I remember now A dell of snow, Frost on the bough; None there but I: Snow, snow, and a wintry sky.
None there but I, And footprints one by one, Zigzaggedly, Where I had run; Where shrill and powdery A robin sat in the tree.
And he whistled sweet; And I in the crusted snow With snow-clubbed feet Jigged to and fro, Till, from the day, The rose-light ebbed away.
And the robin flew Into the air, the air, The white mist through; And small and rare The night-frost fell In the calm and misty dell.
And the dusk gathered low, And the silver moon and stars On the frozen snow Drew taper bars, Kindled winking fires In the hooded briers.
And the sprawling Bear Growled deep in the sky; And Orion’s hair Streamed sparkling by: But the North sighed low, “Snow, snow, more snow!”
. . . and if you are still feeling the Walter, and Winter, here is a rare delight found on youtube of the man himself reading his poem “Snowing”:
Hello Autumn you beautiful harvest season of misty mornings, long nights and mellow fruitfulness. We surrender to crisp leaves crackling underfoot, the zing of cold air sharp in our lungs and the soothing, cosseting bliss of wrapping ourselves in layers upon layers of natural, hand knitted wool, silk, cashmere, alpaca . . .
Smitten by hand knitted and EPP {English Paper Piecing} patchwork. Slow-stitching pretty fabrics together by hand, hand knitting squares and rectangles in favourite yarns and connecting them with feature stitches, making all kinds of garments and homewares in flourishes of treasured patchwork pieces. Making patchwork by hand is a satisfying long term project with all …
Summer in the Outer Hebrides. The sun uplifts us, we’re early to rise and feeling wise. Adventures beckon in the wind gusting off the sea. Sparkles of salt spray drench our smiles. We splash in the cold water and run through the marram grass and red clover, the wild carrot bearing its crowns of seeds …
Winter: potent hibernation
Short days, wild winds, stormy seas. The glory of winter darkness hibernation, wrapping ourselves in cosy woollens, swaddling our spirits in the gestation time, quietening our minds, listening with stillness to the sounds of nature.
Here we are in the deep mid-Winter with arrows pointing back to Autumn and forwards to Spring in the eternal rhythm of the seasons.
Yes, we are wallowing in winter on our Inner Wild Winterdark pinterest board.
The excerpts here show among the birds eggs and forest shadows a feature on Inner Wild in Belle Armoire magazine and below the Inner Wild Snowfall on Skin Bodice.
A little poem moment for you, Walter on Winter:
Winter
by Walter de la Mare
Green Mistletoe!
Oh, I remember now
A dell of snow,
Frost on the bough;
None there but I:
Snow, snow, and a wintry sky.
None there but I,
And footprints one by one,
Zigzaggedly,
Where I had run;
Where shrill and powdery
A robin sat in the tree.
And he whistled sweet;
And I in the crusted snow
With snow-clubbed feet
Jigged to and fro,
Till, from the day,
The rose-light ebbed away.
And the robin flew
Into the air, the air,
The white mist through;
And small and rare
The night-frost fell
In the calm and misty dell.
And the dusk gathered low,
And the silver moon and stars
On the frozen snow
Drew taper bars,
Kindled winking fires
In the hooded briers.
And the sprawling Bear
Growled deep in the sky;
And Orion’s hair
Streamed sparkling by:
But the North sighed low,
“Snow, snow, more snow!”
. . . and if you are still feeling the Walter, and Winter, here is a rare delight found on youtube of the man himself reading his poem “Snowing”:
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