In the wee hours of Sunday past, time danced backward an hour in the little blue house in the village, and Daylight Saving Time waved goodbye until next year. The week also marked nine straight years of blogging at Beyond the Fields We Know - nine whole years of logging on here in the morning, posting a mediocre (or downright awful) photo or two, and then muttering along for a few paragraphs. An astonishing state of affairs, and it boggles the mind - after all this time, I still can't quite come to terms with my audacity in setting this e-journal up in the first place, let alone doing the blogging thing faithfully for nine years in a row.
These are my vägmärken (or road marks), my morning pages or artist's pages, and they will probably remain pretty much as they are in this shiny new scribbling year. There may be a scant handful of font and banner tinkerings in the future, but that is about it. I don't foresee any significant changes to this place and I expect life will simply go on as it has been doing so far.
We will continue to meander along at our own pace, watching morning fogs enfold the village and oak leaves raining like honey in the park, tattered birches swaying against the sky, bright moons and night skies alight with winter stars, old Helios going down like a great ball of fire over Dalhousie Lake at the trailing edge of the year. Recent serious health "stuff" notwithstanding, it's grand to be here and all wrapped up in what we like to call simply, "the Great Round". Every morning, the small adventures of our journeying will continue to make their way here and get spilled out on the computer screen some time around sunrise. The words of Mary Oliver came to mind as we all pottered along in the fog a few days ago.
The years to come—this is a promise—
will grant you ample time
to try the difficult steps in the empire of thought
where you seek for the shining proofs you think you must have.
But nothing you ever understand will be sweeter, or more binding,
than this deep affinity between your eyes and the world.
Mary Oliver, Excerpt from Terns
She once said that sometimes one only needs to stand where she is to be blessed. Thank you for journeying along with me this year. You are more precious and wonderful than you can ever know.