Everything now has been coated with the cold slick of winter breadth, the dogs reluctantly sitting on shivering hunkers waiting for a signal to blindly cross the road. Their automated walk for me now consists of sliding compromises in an attempt to avoid disrupting the mornings gentle awakening of exchanging dreams for reality. A pin prick on the sole of my shoe sucks in enough moisture with every step to set the cold running through to my skin and drawing in just enough discomfort to help me appreciate how truly lucky in life we really are. The sense of renewal darkly lurks within every bush and folding hill side, paused and still, it waits silently for the reward of this moment universally celebrated as reality or truth.The solstice moon falls just short of its target again for yet another year, but in its attempt to align its shadow with mounds and fairy tombs it awakens the anticipation of all who have decided to come this year to the colosseum of life to see if their ultimate gladiator appears to the waiting crowds who vain its warmth one more time before the new year begins. Once again the white ninjas have returned to the valley in the debts of darkness, drinking from the fermenting pools of barley filled ponds below Newgrange. The scatter of drunken mallards and wigeon incircle above their heads like bats too scared to leave the sanctuary of their cave. In and out the ninjas go, fulfilling their pact made with the fairy Angus to escort Caer each year to their ancestral home. And so Dagda screams from the tombs for another year, his memory and legacy kept alive. Hail to all who love life and feel the quickening, its conical strainer draining faster each day until the warmth of light returns and the ravens again sing and wet your foot every so often, youd be surprised what happens!
Posted on: Mon, 08 Dec 2014 12:09:18 +0000
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