Short days and frosty nights. A coolness of light. The quietness of time spent observing, being aware, noticing the beauty in every tiny moment. I am knitting a sock on tiny needles with rustic 4 ply wool rough against my finger tips.
Ice crystals slide down the window glass.
Letting all the pieces come together. Allowing space. Being quiet. Feeling stillness. Resting.
All is on the wane here; the long grass falls dry and soft yellow, sunlight is dimmed in the morning, the wind is colder. At the same time the bramble berries are bursting with plump ripeness and the Rowan berries shine red in the twilight as crows squawk in delight at them. We fall into …
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 …
Honey mellow molten sunshine in the freshness of Autumn. Small bundles of windtorn heather still bloom, fading to lilac from bright purple. As-one-with-nature Inner Wild wilderness wear for dearhearts clockwise from top main: Mellow Yellow Handspun Wool Bodice & Stag Antler Fingerless Mitts Gathering Bodice Mega Mitts Honey Sun Mitts Moody and mystical feelings as …
Winter: quiet contemplation
Quiet contemplation and contentment.
Short days and frosty nights. A coolness of light. The quietness of time spent observing, being aware, noticing the beauty in every tiny moment. I am knitting a sock on tiny needles with rustic 4 ply wool rough against my finger tips.
Ice crystals slide down the window glass.
Letting all the pieces come together. Allowing space. Being quiet. Feeling stillness. Resting.
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All is on the wane here; the long grass falls dry and soft yellow, sunlight is dimmed in the morning, the wind is colder. At the same time the bramble berries are bursting with plump ripeness and the Rowan berries shine red in the twilight as crows squawk in delight at them. We fall into …
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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 …
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