Gunny

IB's beloved cat, Gunny, died yesterday. He had been ill for a few weeks with some kind of lung problem,, gradually fading in front of our eyes. He was only 9 years old.

Later that evening the screen saver on my computer, displaying random photos from my files, brought back so many memories. Not just Gunny, but so many other loved and much missed animals. Cats - Teasel, Tigger and Herbert. Chickens, from our first three (Josephine, Daphne and Sugar) all the way through Blanche, Blodwen and Bronwen to our rescued battery hens (Ginger, Babs, Mac and Norma-Jean) and more recent arrivals like Blodeuwedd I who was snatched away by a fox. Ted and Dougal, the guinea pigs. Our original geese, Buffy and Angel are now gone, along with their goslings, Snowy (killed by a predator) and Sunny (re-homed after fighting with his father). Further back, there are older, pre-digital era photos - Algie, Koshka, Julie, Mina, Thomas (cats), Max the budgie, Frances the duck, Nicky the dog.

Anyone who has had a companion animal can tell you that they are all individuals, each one a unique character. Oh, how they worm their way into your heart - and the pain when they are gone.

Today, in beautiful sunshine, we buried Gunny in an area we have earmarked for a forest garden. He was wrapped in one of IB's T-shirts, and we placed flowers and a favourite toy with him in the ground. We planted an apple tree on his grave. In years to come I imagine us sitting under the tree on such a sunny day, sharing our memories of Gunny. In the meantime, we will continue to create new memories with  Bear, Marley and Dandilo, the cats. And enjoy the antics of Bella, Dot, Daisy, Blossom, Ceridwen, Blodeuwedd II, Misty and Morag, our current flock of hens, and Spike, the gander. Our animals bring such colour to our days. Sharing our lives with them is a privilege, and the pain of their loss is a small price to pay for the joy they bring.

RIP Gunny August 2002 - June 2012

Beltane Delights

To me, Beltane is all about celebrating life and enjoying its pleasures. For the Celts, it was the start of summer, the season of long, warm days, abundant food and easy living. So I like my Beltane to be a celebration of beauty and pleasure. 

Though the Beltane weather is cool and rainy this year, there is beauty in abundance in the woods and fields. Tender, translucent birch leaves, the haze of bluebells carpeting the woodland floor, the swooping joy of the returning swallows. This is such a stunningly beautiful time of year.

This evening we feasted on cheese and leek tartlets, mushroom risotto, fresh asparagus and garlic bread. We toasted each other, and the coming summer with glasses of champagne. Later we munched on the most delicious brownies in the world (if you're ever in West Wales, these can be found at the Pachamama restaurant or the Carrot Cruncher organic food shop, both in Newcastle Emlyn).

As the season unfolds I intend to continue joyfully revelling in the delights of early summer. I may not be able to afford to make champagne toasts every evening, but I do intend to consume my body weight in local asparagus while the season lasts. And I will walk barefoot in the lush grass, bask in the sun, laugh with the swallows, walk bareheaded in the rain, and spend as much time as I can with those I love. This is my solemn pledge at Beltane. 

A world this beautiful deserves to be thoroughly appreciated. Anything less would be disrespectful.

Happy Beltane!

Taking Eggs to Mair Part 2

Today, having been ill with a 24-hour bug, I forgot to take a box of eggs down the hill to Mair until 9pm.

The walk down couldn't have been more different to last week. This week I walked in rainy dark, not sun. And I thought of all the times I have walked up and down this hill in the 11 years I have lived at Halfway Up A Hill. I have walked in sun, in rain, in wind, in snow, by moonlight and in pitch dark. I have walked at dawn, and midday, and afternoon, at twilight and at night. I have walked in spring and summer and autumn and winter.

This evening it was still just light enough not to need the torch I took with me. Rain streaming off the fields ran down the edges of the road. Bareheaded, I enjoyed the sensation of raindrops on my hair. The only sound was falling rain, and the rushing of the swollen stream. No owls, no foxes, even the sheep were silent in the fields. Accompanied only by the bats swooping overhead. The smell of rain and woodsmoke. Down in the valley the few street lights glowed orange; the headlights of an occasional car swept along the road. Across the hills, the scattered lights of surrounding farms. Back up this hill, only the warm glow of lights at Halfway Up a Hill are visible.


Isn't this one of the ways we connect with the spirit of a place? By repeating a journey, an action, a chore, week after week so that we experience the place in all its many moods and modes? I am envious of the people whose families have walked these hills for generations. I imagine a bone-deep knowledge of the land.  My own relationship with this land will never have those accumulated ages of connection. But I approach the spirit of this place in friendship, with respect and openness. And as I open to Her, she opens to me and reveals Her many layers. Like any relationship, work, patience and understanding are required. But the rewards are well worth it.

Heron Dreaming

Last night I dreamed that a heron flew above me, scattering blue-grey feathers like magical gifts in my path.

This morning, as I travelled through the rain-blurred river valley, a pair of herons wheeled gracefully overhead, before disappearing into the trees...

Sometimes the line between dreaming and waking seems fine as spidersilk...

Taking Eggs to Mair

The early evening sun is slanting golden rays across the fields as I walk down the lane to take my neighbour Mair her weekly box of eggs. Lambs bleat at me through the hedge as I pass by. They have grown quickly, already they are half the size of their mothers.

Each week I walk down with a box of eggs for Mair; each week the changing seasons have something new to show me. Today there is a sharp chill in the wind, but there is bright sunshine and blue sky. Shy violets purple the bank of the stream. The daffodils are all but finished, now there are celandines and windflowers and soon there will be bluebells. In the hedge, the exuberant froth of blackthorn blossoms contrasts with stark black thorny twigs. the new hawthorn leaves are such a vivid green, the very essence of spring rebirth. The smooth grey limbs of the ash tree glow in the light of the setting sun.

I listen to the bird song, hoping to hear the happy chatter of swallows, but not yet. Soon, soon, those joyously swooping spirits of summer will return. But not yet.

Savouring the sights, scents and sounds, I walk slowly down the hill - and even more slowly back up again. It is steep, and even after living here 11 years I am still rendered breathless by the time I return to my own gate.

Now I wander down to the geese. Buffy and her new beau Spike have been wandering all day by the greenhouse, feasting on the tender spring grass there. Now I shut them safely back in their pen before twilight - and any peckish foxes in the vicinity - descend. Then I make my way back up to the house through the vegetable patch, noting with satisfaction the profusion of golden cowslips in the flower bed by the compost heap. The apple tree is just starting to come into leaf, and soon the flowering cherry will be putting on her show stopping display of fairytale pink blossom.

In the dark days of winter I longed for spring. And now it is here and passing all too quickly. It is good to take a little time out to fully appreciate the onrush of spring. It is lucky Mair expects her box of eggs each week. It's the perfect opportunity to stroll down the lane, sniffing violets and listening for swallows and keeping an eye open for the first bluebells...

Wonderful Giveaway

Pic: copyright Jackie Morris

If you go to this page, you will find details of a couple of wonderful giveaways from the extremely talented Jackie Morris that you could win....

Of course, my reasons for posting this are not wholly altruistic, as you will see. I want it, I want it! *crosses fingers and wishes*

Good luck!

Contentment

Lazy lie-in, snuggled with IB and a bed full of purring cats.

Warm brioche rolls and a steaming mug of coffee.

A long, luxurious soak in the bath.

Out into a mild spring day full of birdsong and gentle breezes.

A day of simple pleasures.