Tomorrow is Imbolc, a celebration that light is starting to appear from darkest winter (among other things). Nature brought the light a little early, and provided us with a rare cool, sunny day. It was mighty pleasant.
You could see colors on the birds!
I enjoyed a break from my very busy week by sitting outside after work, reflecting on how much I value my connections and wish I could cultivate them more.
I’m too busy sitting with birds, I guess.
At least I talked to my friend Donna yesterday, and she reminded me that the Purple Martins start to return this time of year. I also saw the bluebonnets getting bigger today, and I was happy, even though the speaker at last night’s Master Naturalist class informed us they are not native here, just in the granite areas of the hill country. Poo.
Lee was practicing with his camera so you can see what I look like when listening to and watching birds.
I know spring is coming, with turkey eggs every other day, calendar changes, getting my first new temperature blanket module done (tomorrow), and a new theme color for my journal and nail polishes. Stereotypical, it’s true, but February is all pink. I might even have pink in my hair. Ooooh.
It’s Imbolc if you observe ye olde Celtic traditions. It’s been modernized to St. Bridget’s Day. I love this celebration of the first glimpses of light after a long winter. I always light candles and try to have a fire.
Candles, St. Bridget’s cross and a tree of life for today.
I’m not too big on organized religion, but I do enjoy honoring the changing seasons, the passage of time, and one’s cultural heritage. Lee and I enjoy our “wheel of the year” hanging calendar that lets you move through the year with the most recent observance on top.
How appropriate for a day that celebrates the keeper of an eternal flame than to finally get the fire pit working by the pool! Yes! We can sit in the hot tub and celebrate with our own flame tonight! However, fuel prices being what they are, our flame will not be eternal.
Flame on!
It was no easy task, but one can now light the fire like magic. Or the magic of propane.
Hooray for Austin
And if that’s not enough light, I got some small solar lights for around the pool to make the steps and edges easier to see. I’m charging them up now, since it’s sunny and warm.
It’s hard to believe we are under a winter storm warning. Tomorrow may be another story. I’ll just enjoy today while it lasts.
It’s the SUN! It makes the earth shiny! It kills germs!
The UU Lent word for today is fire. It came on a good day, because a fiery ball of light appeared in the sky for the first time in a LONG time, or at least it seems.
Seeing the sun this morning made me hopeful. I have read that it’s harder for some viruses to thrive when the sun is out, baking away. I keep hoping the coronavirus is one that will be slowed by sun and heat. It’s supposed to get to 90F today, after many days of cold and damp here in the middle of Texas. (I also hope it helps Fiona’s legs heal up.)
While I’m mostly a watery Pisces kind of person, fire has always meant a lot to me. Like my favorite goddess, Brighid, the goddess of the hearth, the forge, and poetry, I like to make things from fire (pottery, bread) and I like to use my words to ignite a spark of recognition, passion, or learning in others.
Notice how different each brick is.
I took the picture of the bricks a few days ago. I love how every one of these hand-made bricks is different. And that they’ve required some repair to the mortar holding them together. But they still stand, because they work together. WHOA! A METAPHOR FOR OUR TIMES! We need to be this way.
Alfred’s still guarding the fort. We all need an Alfred from time to time.
We may be just “another brick in the wall,” but in reality, we have our own jobs to do right now. And so what if we’re cracked or a little broken, we can still do it! I’m thinking of all my family and friends who are trying hard to hold themselves together. That means YOU!
Cheers. Who needs to brush your hair in a pandemic? I do still wear a bra, but it’s a comfy one.
I’ve actually lit a fire (sticking to my theme) under myself and am getting lots of work done for all the jobs. I guess I’m getting used to the new normal.
I recently read that Texans are drinking the most alcohol during this time. I did my part yesterday with some proseco.
But, here’s a weird thing. I took off all the dip polish and cut my nails. I am hoping that Tina, my nail technician, is able to take some time off to take care of her family, so I spend some time bonding with the smell of acetone and made my nails naked.
They are pretty thin anyway, so even when I go back to the nail place, I’ll probably just get polish for a little while, so they can grow out.
Now I look like Granny Kendall, who had little short, fat fingers and bit her nails to the quick.
I don’t recognize my hands. They are very clean. I’m having to use so much hand lotion that I took off all the big rings. That’s a new normal for me, too.
I had a post for yesterday, but I need an image from Austin, so it will have to wait. Instead, here’s a weather report!
Can’t see past the pond. I know there are cattle out there! Sorry for the screen.
There’s strange fog this morning. It was clear at sunrise. Lee said it was a glorious orange. (I slept through it.) But now it’s getting foggier and foggier. You can’t see the field across the road.
You can’t see the field across the road today. Yesterday the field shone like diamonds.
I’m guessing this is the rising temperatures and very damp soil are causing this rare midday fog. It’s definitely warmed up, and we’re enjoying a respite from yet another round of floods last week (you know it’s been wet when heavy flooding doesn’t even warrant a photo).
Speaking of weird weather
I wish my camera could have captured what greeted my eyes yesterday. Looking out the same front window you see above, I saw an intensely sunny morning. It had gotten cool enough to cause a heavy frost, which completely covered the field across the road, which has a cover crop a few inches high on it.
The sun was at just the right angle to make the frost shine like crystals. The result was an amazing shiny, sparkly field instead of green rye.
It wouldn’t photograph through the window screen, and it would not have looked the same from ground level, so it’s just a memory to savor for me, and something to imagine for you. Not a bad thing!
The Hermits' Rest 