Suprised by green. (Helleborus Foetidus)
Bowled over by the scent of Christmas Box.
Beside myself with pleasure when these pop up every winter, but so early this year. They are simply hope made botanical, no?
But winter cold suddenly returned at the weekend, -6 degrees C this morning, even the river froze over.
The river reeds and grasses look dessicated now, but there is still such ineffible beauty in their demise I think.
Every year I get slightly exasperated by January and February, partly perhaps because the 'hygge' (Danish for 'winter cosy') has slightly lost its novelty and partly because I am just plain longing for the colour and warmth of Spring, and that can be a couple of months away yet.
This year though, I am finding a quiet rhythm in this slow, dark month. I am making time for extra sleep and reading, planning and baking, things that need a gentler pace, less rush. Like the dark, bare trees along the field margins, I am taking my time, absorbing nutrition of one sort or another, knowing all the time that busier weeks lie around the corner.
The best description I have found of this restful quality of January is here - and for the first time, I really understand what she is so eloqently describing. I hope you find it as inspiring as I did.
small stones 14,15,16
hope made botanical.
The river is iced, solidified,
halted by nothing more than air.
It is not the tea itself I really love,
or the frothy coffee, or hot chocolate milk,
it is the warm cup in my hands, the heat seeping into my curled fingers,
the radius of comfort for me alone.