Friday Ramble - First of the Year

In January, it is tempting to remain indoors and curl up in the warm with a mug of tea and a book, but Beau and I need to be out among the tree people now and again, however short our stay on cold days. Rambles nourish and sustain us, and there is always something to see when we are out and about.

Earlier this week, we were on the receiving end of an ice storm, and village streets have been treacherous going, but trails in the woods were not bad at all. "Crunch, crunch, crunch" went our booted (and cleated) feet yesterday as we made our way along. It was surely our imagination this early in the year, but the woods seemed brighter than they were a few days ago. Sunlight sparked through the trees, and everything glittered. The light was sublime. We felt as if every jeweler's vault on the planet had been looted and the glittering contents spilled out at our feet.

There was flickering movement in woodland alcoves and hollows; shadows rippled and flowed as squalls gusted through the whiskery trees. The shadows seemed deeper and more intense, more blue. Here and there, a tiny sprig of frozen evergreen poked out of the snow, and the color was a hopeful thing, one that not even the biting north wind could carry away in its gelid paws. I often wonder why there are not more words in the English language for such blustery air currents.

Resolutions this year? With so much suffering and uncertainty in the world, my heart is not in making resolutions. There is just the same old work in progress, Beau and I wandering along together, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out.

As we go, we will try to keep the words of Zen master and lay teacher Osaka Koryu in mind. When we breathe in, we will breathe in the whole universe. When we breathe out, we will breathe out the whole universe. We will ramble onward paw in paw as always, and we will simply keep putting one foot in front of the other. We will converse with the great trees along our way, and we will look for the light.

The first full moon of the calendar year will rise on Saturday evening (January 3), and skies are supposed to be clear that night so viewing conditions should be splendid. In the northern hemisphere, this month's full moon is often called the Wolf Moon because it was once believed that wolves howled more at this time of the year. Saturday's moon will be the first supermoon of 2026, and there will not be another until November. Wrap up warmly go outside for a look! 

Friday Ramble, First of the Year

The Winter Solstice came and went, and light is slowly returning to the world. Northern days are growing longer, but the effects of December's turning are felt in their own good time. It will be a while before we sense real change.

In January, it is tempting to remain indoors and curl up in the warm with a mug of tea and a book, but Beau and I need to be out in the woods now and again, however short our stay on cold days. Rambles nourish and sustain us, and there is always something to see when we are out and about.

"Crunch, crunch, crunch" went our booted feet yesterday as we made our way along the trail. It was surely our imagination this early in the year, but the woods seemed brighter than they were a few days ago. Sunlight sparked through the trees, and everything glittered. The light was sublime. We felt as if every jeweler's vault on the planet had been looted and the glittering contents spilled out at our feet.

There was flickering movement in woodland alcoves and hollows; shadows rippled and flowed like water as squalls gusted through the whiskery trees. The shadows seemed deeper and more intense, more blue. Here and there, a leaf or a tiny sprig of frozen evergreen poked out of the light snow, and the color was a hopeful thing, one that not even the biting north wind could carry away in its gelid paws. I always wonder why there are not more words in the English language for such blustery air currents.

Resolutions this year??? With so much suffering, turbulence and uncertainty in the world, my heart is not in making resolutions. There are no lofty aspirations scrawled on paper or etched in stone, just the same old work in progress. Beau and I are lurching onward together, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out.

As we go along, we will keep the words of Zen master and lay teacher Osaka Koryu in mind. When we breathe in, we will breathe in the whole universe. When we breathe out, we will breathe out the whole universe. We will go along together, paw in paw, and we will simply keep putting one foot in front of the other. As always, we will talk with the great trees and look for the light.

Rumors of Spring

Friday Ramble - First of the Year

The Winter Solstice came and went, and light is slowly returning to the world. Northern days are growing longer, but the effects of December's turning are felt in their own good time. It will be a while before we sense real change.

In January, it is tempting to remain indoors and curl up in the warm with a mug of tea and a book, but Beau and I need to be out in the woods now and again, however short our stay on cold days. Rambles nourish and sustain us, and there is always something to see when we are out and about.

"Crunch, crunch, crunch" went our booted feet yesterday as we made our way along the trail. It was surely our imagination this early in the year, but the woods seemed brighter than they were a few days ago. Sunlight sparked through the trees, and everything glittered. The light was sublime. We felt as if every jeweler's vault on the planet had been looted and the glittering contents spilled out at our feet.

There was flickering movement in woodland alcoves and hollows; shadows rippled and flowed like water as squalls gusted through the whiskery trees. The shadows seemed deeper and more intense, more blue. Here and there, a leaf or a tiny sprig of frozen evergreen poked out of the light snow, and the color was a hopeful thing, one that not even the biting north wind could carry away in its gelid paws. I always wonder why there are not more words in the English language for such blustery air currents.

Resolutions this year??? In this time of world turbulence, suffering and uncertainty, my heart is not in making resolutions. There won't be any lofty aspirations scrawled on paper or etched in stone this time around. There will be just the same old work in progress, Beau and I lurching onward together, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. That will have to be enough, and we are OK with that.

As we ramble, we will keep the words of Osaka Koryu in mind. When we breathe in, we will breathe in the whole universe, and when we breathe out, we will breathe out the whole universe. We will go along together, paw in paw, and we will simply keep putting one foot in front of the other. As always, we will talk with the great trees and look for the light.

On the First Morning of the Year

May there be light and abundance in your life,
robust health and sweet contentment.
May there be adventures and laughter,
May there be magic, all kinds of it.

May you find joy in your creations.
May all your lessons be gentle.
May fulfillment grace your life.
May there be peace on your journey.

Remember, this world is a better
place because you are in it.

Sunday, Saying Yes to the World

It is no secret. All power is one in source and end, I think. Years and distances, stars and candles, water and wind and wizardry, the craft in a man’s hand and the wisdom in a tree’s root: they all arise together. My name, and yours, and the true name of the sun, or a spring of water, or an unborn child, all are syllables of the great word that is very slowly spoken by the shining of the stars. There is no other power. No other name.

Ursula Le Guin, A Wizard of Earthsea

On the First Morning of the Year

May there be light and abundance in your life,
robust health and sweet contentment.

May there be adventures and laughter,

May there be magic, all kinds of it.

May you find joy in your creations.
May all your lessons be gentle.
May fulfillment grace your life.
May there be peace on your journey.

Remember, this world is a richer
place because you are in it.

Happy New Year!

Getting Through March, Sheepishly

March came in like a lioness, and then the lioness stepped away for a few days. Within her brief absence, plucky birds paired off amorously, and local starlings sang merrily, pretending they were robins. For a while it looked as if there would be an early maple syrup run.  For a handful of days, I dared to entertain thoughts of springtime - gardening magazines, nursery catalogs and seed packets bloomed on every surface in the little blue house in the village.

There are halcyon days now and then, but they are few and far between. Frigid days and icy nights persist, the north wind flinging heaps of snow against the door of the garden shed, shiny new icicles dangling from rafters, tumps of earth and faded grasses vanishing after emerging briefly out of the white stuff. There is still a lot of snow about, and our geese, loons and herons are going to be late coming home this year. It will be weeks until they can find food in frozen farm fields. 

What is one to do at such times?  I drink Logdriver espresso and Yorkshire tea, make soup and gingerbread cookies, pummel bread dough. In the middle of the night, I plot new beds of heirloom vegetables and herbs to be dug (hopefully) next month, research heirloom roses, lay out the design for another quilt. I cultivate forbearance and try to be cheerful when snow falls and ice turns the threshold into a skating rink, hoping ardently that Lady March will get her act together and morph into a lamb, darn it.

At the end of winter, one becomes a tad maudlin.  When a friend in the Lanark Highlands told me this week that spring lambs are about to be born in her magnificent old log barn, I could have cried. Poor wee beasties, coming into the world in such harrowing circumstances.

Enough is enough already.  Rain would be fine, and it is easier stuff to shove than snow. One thing about the weather though - the night skies have been fabulous: flaming sunsets and moons one can almost reach up and touch, planets dancing in the sky at dusk, dippers of starlight strewn by handfuls from vast, streaming cosmic cauldrons. What a show, what a trip!

Haud Hogmanay, A Guid New Year

Wishing you abundance, cheer and rude good health in the shiny new year about to begin, many a festive beaker (or a noggin or a dram) too. Be happy this evening, be warm, be safe, wherever you are.

Let us remember the bright, beloved and courageous spirits who left us this year and went on ahead. Let us give thanks for them being in our lives and send them our love when we raise our glasses.

May every cup you hold this year contain a star or two and have a little light in its depths. May there be fine adventures on the road ahead. May all good things come to you and your clan (or tribe) in 2020.