This morning the sun was shining as I was taking my Daughter to the kindergarten. And what's the fuss, I hear you ask. Well, I can not remember when was the last time that I actually saw the sun. Weird, huh. And even today the sun was there only for the briefest of periods before disappearing back under the horizon. But it was there. And with the nipping weather, the light on top of the small mounts surrounding our little town was straight from a Christmas storybook.
From my bedroom window.
The sun was already gone.
In just a moment, it will be dark.
Today has been a seriously tiring day. And yet, I feel much more light and in a weird way even sort of calmer now than I did last week. Is it getting used to this? Settling yourself to if not grinning then at least bearing it? Making peace with your battle? I don't know. But I do know better than to 'count my chickens before they're hatched' so I'll just enjoy the calm of today since tomorrow morning I might wake up in the middle of a thunderstorm.
As long as there's breath in me.
Right now I am sitting by my Daughter's bed, she's a fitful sleeper and wanted her Mommy. The only light here are the candles and this cold glow of my computer. The only real sound the sound she makes tossing and turning in her dreams. This morning she said she had been dreaming of fairies that had spread stars on the ground, and brought her butterflies. And all this in the middle of the usual hassle of getting ready to go in the morning. I think it might have been somewhere between the winter boots and the fleece suit. Fairies. I had to smile.
By Warwick Goble
Who's got plenty of other cute faery paintings...
Yeah, fairies are not strangers in this household. I used to actually do serious ( well, that's debatable, naturally ) academic study about fairies. Yeah. Right. Well, poetry about fairies to be more specific. And to be even more specific, poetry written about fairies in the late 18th century Scotland. Wehey. At least it warranted me some rather nice 'study' trips to the Highlands where I pretty much just roamed around just soaking in the nature and, what else, reading. Didn't see any fairies, though...but I am glad if my Daughter still does. I once said to a certain somebody that the best way to kill an innocent belief into any even slightly esoteric thingybobby is to start doing academic study on it. Trust me, its the best way for that. But look at this, doesn't it send your imagination flying...
That's Eilean Donan, near Isle of Skye which I
still think is one of the most beautiful
places on earth.
I am not a mad fan of crowds. So while I technically would like to see the throngs of Calcutta or the samba carnival in Rio, they would both quite likely drive me straight up the wall. I can deal with crowds, of course, have had to, but I prefer if not solitude then certainly having more space to breathe. Cities, fine, as long as I know I will eventually have the chance to flee them. Unfortunately I find cities also a sort of unpleasant necessity when it comes to work and study, but I breathe easier far away from the 'madding crowd'. And then off to another end of Europe, Nordkapp or North Cape. The location of the northernmost city in the world.
Plenty of breathing space there as well.
Pure love.
My Sister is, at this very moment, in Berlin, visiting a friend of hers. Talk about big cities. And despite my undying fascination with all these, yes, I guess desolate would be one way of putting it, places, I think my next trip will most likely also be to Berlin. It's been years since I've been there, and for some reason I keep finding myself checking the flight prices. Or else Italy. Florence. Better start packing my suitcases....
Which I should be doing anyway since I am flying 'down south' on Friday anyway. A weekend seminar on the way. Should be nice, and I will be staying in this hundred years old wooden villa by a lake, so actually, no matter what the seminar turns out to be like, that enough should make the trip worthwhile for such a fan of old, decrepit wooden houses as myself.
Today I have not felt like talking to anyone. Seeing anyone. Just getting by. And while I was just randomly listening to music while doing this 'getting by' I stumbled upon this song by previously completely unknown to me singers Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson. And now I feel like it would make a perfect ending for this wintery post with no baking or any other lighthearted frippery in it. So here it is, Winter Song, just click on it below.
by
Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson
Hello hello! Your winter song was beautiful, packed with all sorts - paintings, suitcases, dreams, angels, sleeping beauties and prayers for better days... may they all manifest frequently in your life :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Shaista. And please you keep bringing joy to us by your poetry. :)
ReplyDeletePoetry is generally not my literary genre of choice, but late 18th century Scottish fairy poetry sounds like a really interesting subject. I've been wanting to visit Eilean Donan for years. I found a picture of it somewhere when I was little and decided that at some point in my life I had to go there. Still haven't made it yet, but hopefully in the not too distant future. And Ingrid Michaelson is wonderful! I got to see her live a few years ago at a very intimate venue. Lovely!
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