overflowing

Today there is no otherwise. The world is filled with rain. The sea is singing gently on my front doorstep; the sky lies on the grass. I have opened the door to it, and am sitting with tea and a blanket, reading Sylvia Linsteadt's poetry and embroidering the new tender strands of a story.  A long, slow story that sounds (I hope) something like winter rain.




I have mountain music in my heart. I was listening to it earlier but had to turn it off because sometimes music sounds so much better in memory, having soaked into your own dreaming thoughts. It's the same with mountains themselves. I always yearn to go home to them, but remembering them is perhaps just as good, tinged as it is with the solemn, finely wrought beauty of hiraeth.



Sometimes it gets lonely, living in a world of summer people, sunshine people, and those who prize gratification more than anything else. I wonder if other people watch the rains of deep midwinter and marvel at this ancient birthing process of the season to come. First the rains, the opening and the softening. Then the long slow bloom. There's a powerful womanhood to this moment. And a deep, endless wisdom which doesn't really care if we stop to appreciate it, or if we put up umbrellas and grumble about the cold - it is older than us, and it just goes on doing its thing. One day maybe all the land will be covered in skyscrapers, roads, factories - but the winter will still birth the sun. When I sit quietly inside the seasons, I learn how to wait. And that transforms hiraeth from a longing to a remembrance of love.





12 comments:

  1. There is such beauty in your thoughts, and a lovely image to compliment them.

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  2. Such beauty. Your words almost makes me long for winter, though I'm not ready for it, not yet. I need more summer first. But I love the quiet beauty of it, candlelight and silence.

    Looking forward to your winter rain story :)

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  3. I love the pictures and feelings you paint with your words. How, I look forward to more of your stories!

    I truly love all of the seasons, but it is the memory of summer that gets me through the long, cold, snowy winter. But, then, what you call winter is early summer weather here. It was 63F/17C just two weeks ago! (and those were lovely, soft, mild days).

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    1. Yes, I might very well feel differently if I lived with such cold as you do! :-)

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  4. i am more at home with the turning in part of the year than the turning out part...samhain/all hallows, yule/xmas...winter rain feels more congenial in some ways than bright sun, and although i love the blossoming earth, i also love her bare bone time equally. so all you say makes sense to me, deeply so.

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    1. I'm glad to hear from a kindred spirit :-) Most people seem to prefer the summer.

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  5. Overflowing with beauty. Thank you.

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  6. This speaks so dearly to my winter-souled nature. And the gentle humility of patience, of waiting inside the seasons, the transformation of ache and longing, into something beautiful. I want to hold your writing here, close to me. xx

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    1. I am so glad :-) And I must say, I love your new hair cut! It has such a lusciousness to it.

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