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.
Deer rush down from the mountains of Harris and the broad swathes of moorland drawn by the fresh, new growth of grass to soar over fences. And so it is with us humans. Deep inside we run with the deer; we too feel the machair sap rising and in the rhythm of the tide, the …
As we are all part of nature we feel the quickening in early Spring, a tingling of life force awakening inside us, a desire to rampage into newness. I wonder if like the sap in plant stems that is suddenly rising and full of vigour, we too have this response in our bodies. All things …
As the wind rises and the summer sunlight begins to fade my fingers are enjoying the rustic textures of Hebridean wool and minimally-processed Shetland wool pressed against deer antler bone and ram horn toggles and buttons. “The tactile delight of rough, rustic wool and smooth bone.” The flowing shapes of found deer antler tips, always …
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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Deer rush down from the mountains of Harris and the broad swathes of moorland drawn by the fresh, new growth of grass to soar over fences. And so it is with us humans. Deep inside we run with the deer; we too feel the machair sap rising and in the rhythm of the tide, the …
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As we are all part of nature we feel the quickening in early Spring, a tingling of life force awakening inside us, a desire to rampage into newness. I wonder if like the sap in plant stems that is suddenly rising and full of vigour, we too have this response in our bodies. All things …
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As the wind rises and the summer sunlight begins to fade my fingers are enjoying the rustic textures of Hebridean wool and minimally-processed Shetland wool pressed against deer antler bone and ram horn toggles and buttons. “The tactile delight of rough, rustic wool and smooth bone.” The flowing shapes of found deer antler tips, always …