Veiled
The rooftops and trees of the village across the valley were only just visible through the mist this morning as I looked out of my kitchen window.
Standing on the cusp of a new year feels much the same. There are plans and schemes and dreams, but most of what will unfold is still shrouded, yet to be revealed.
2010 brought a long list of extraordinary surprises for which I’m deeply grateful. It included an unprecedented amount of travel and significant new friendships. I acquired a studio and a large, extended family in India. I have absolutely no doubt that 2011 will deliver its own share of treasure.
I thank you for following along during the last year; for all the comments and e-mails that make my day. And I hope very much you’ll stick around to see what the new year brings.
Russia
It may have been a low-key Christmas but it was every bit a fabulous holiday.
I discovered that daily saunas are an amazing thing when you’ve been trudging through deep snow in the bitter cold. I learned that no-one - not even a tsar - sits in an Orthodox church; it’s standing room only.
It was a holiday filled with music - from the Christmas carillon that chimed regularly from the tower on the corner to the impromptu performance staged by four singing priests; from the folk musicians who played during dinner at night to the orchestra at the Mariinsky Theatre where we watched the Kirov Ballet; from the student choir singing carols whilst we sipped mulled wine to the harpist who entertained us every afternoon in the hotel lobby.
We ate fabulous food (caviar for breakfast, anyone?) and saw wondrous things (the newly-restored Amber Room at the Catherine Palace is a sight of astonishing beauty).
Late at night on December 24th, we found a velvet bag hanging on our door filled with chocolates and nuts and tangerines. Someone had remembered it was Christmas, after all.