The Same View: February

The second in our series exploring a changing landscape over the course of a year.  But today, a bonus: a series within a series!

I shot this view three times within a 24 hour period, beginning with the photo above, taken at around 11 am yesterday.  By 5 pm it looked like this:



And 24 hours after the first shot, at around 11 o'clock this morning, here it is:



The scene changes from hour to hour, not just month to month.

I could equally, over the last eleven days, have taken this view in thickest fog (not that you'd have seen much) or driving rain.  But I've opted for the photo at the top to represent February because it seems to sum up best how February has felt so far.  Which is not so different from how January felt.

I'll leave you with a reminder of the scene a month ago.

January

Stuff Comes In Useful

I’m still struggling with the boxes. With the de-cluttering and space-creating. More or less valiantly. Mostly less. And here’s why…

The other day I bought a dress. A little jersey dress. A bit on the short side, but nice. Trouble was, as I wore it, it worked its way up my legs until it was WAAAY too short.

So yesterday, wanting to wear it, I went rummaging through the remaining boxes for something that would lend it an air of decency. And I came across an old satin nightie that‘s been kicking around in my drawers, unworn, for years. The kind of thing which, if I’d got as far as sorting that particular box, would have been a prime contender for the ‘get rid of’ sack.

I slipped the pink nightdress on under my new dress, creating the effect of a satin band around the bottom of the frock; then attached a felt flower brooch a friend had given me a while ago - but which had also lain unused - to the hem. And voila! A pretty - and modest - new outfit that attracted admiring comments all day long.

So my point is this. STUFF COMES IN USEFUL! Which is what makes chucking it out so very hard!

The Snowdrop

One of the things I missed most about Britain whilst I lived in Arkansas was the abundance of spring bulbs we enjoy here each year. And so I’ve looked longingly for the first signs of blooming throughout these winter months.

Today my wait was over. What began as one small clump of snowdrops has - by dint of splitting them every two or three years - become a respectable community of small blossoms flanking the lane.

But this was the first to droop its dainty head this year. It opened this morning and glowed demurely through the foggy dampness. And welcomed me back to the prospect of an English spring.

A Walk in the Woods

Today we took a walk in the woods,

Girls and dogs and snow and fog.

Wrapped by mist in our own muffled world.

A pond frozen over, a grotto asleep,

Dogs chasing snowballs that dissolved in mid-air,

A pylon that loomed like a giant on stilts...

A magical, monochrome morning.

Candlemas

If the old rhyme is prophetic, then the worst of winter should be over; for today brought cloud and rain (not to mention snow!).

February 2^nd. Candlemas. The midpoint of winter. Today we’re halfway between the shortest day and the coming of Spring at the equinox.

This was the day - and still is in places - when candles to be used over the coming year were blessed by the clergy and carried in procession. Every window of both church and home was illuminated with a candle if possible. If domestic candles were scarce, a solitary light would burn at the kitchen window.

Tonight I’ll be setting a candle in the window as generations have before me. I keep a stash of special candles for significant occasions such as this. Special because they were dipped by hand before the start of winter by Tasha Tudor’s family in Vermont. The beeswax tapers have a beautiful irregularity and occasionally spit and splutter as all candles once did. Their careful making and the tradition I’m about to enact link me with the past even as I look to the future and the promise of warmer days.

And I’ll be giving thanks for the Light as I set my candle in the window. Whatever Light means to you - be it only the lengthening daylight - I invite you to join me.