You all know that I love where I live, and I feel deeply blessed to be where I am. There is a deep and ancient spirituality to the land, which you cannot fail to feel; open your heart and your spirit, throw open wide your welcoming arms, and it will softly ooze into every corner of your being, connecting you on levels you have never known before. Everything surrounding you is alive with special energy as it sparkles and glimmers with ancient magic, from the pre~dawn of time. Significant Ley Lines run nearby, and evidence of ancient settlements are at every turn, if you know what to look for.
This is a land shaped by the forces nature long before man came along and turned it to his design by his own hand. This is a land where coastal inlets and caves are carved out by the relentless pounding of the Atlantic Ocean. This is a land where small streams carve out small but beautiful valleys as they run to greet the ocean This is a land where the mighty westerly winds that whip without end dictate and shape what grows in the fertile soil of the land.
After a walk on a rare and wonderfully warm and windless mid December day, I rested, quietly, on a special, handcrafted, slate seat set into an old Pembrokeshire stone hedge. I let my spirit drink deeply from the draught offered to my parched and hungry soul. As I sipped from the never ending well of universal energy, I was nourished and restored by all that surrounded me as I sat in peaceful contentment and awe.
The sun was as strong as it could possibly be for the time of year, as it slips slowly closer to the horizon each passing day, with the Winter Solstice just days away, soon it will be starting its long uphill climb, rising slowly higher each day as the light returns and the circle of the year unfolds once more to bring the Summer Solstice; and so the world turns ~~~
I sat, at first, in silence and with closed eyes, but then the magic unfurled to disclose the unseen. The sun, although pale, shone through my closed eyes and lit up the dark behind my eyelids; a distant gull raucously cawed from a high vantage point; closer by more and more birds joined in the chorus; soon I was hearing birdsong all around. The waves, just a few yards away, out of sight, below the high cliff, lapped languorously, for with no wind there was no urgency, but my ears, now sharpening to the sounds of nature, picked up the quiet lap, lap, lap as barely an effort was made. The bay is seldom seen so calm ~~~
~~~but the fields are almost always so lushly verdant green, for we have a lot of rain! Indeed we do!
I opened my eyes as I sat and observed: small tussocks of dying grass, mounds like graves in honour of the dying year, were all around my feet ~~~
and as I watched those mouldering mounds, with newly opened eyes, I saw life springing all around! The clear, clean air was full of tiny gnats, swarming and swimming around in the warm afternoon; the finest of gossamer threads, silver, spider parachutes spread, flying out, glimmering and shimmering, catching the pale light of sun, as spiderlings fly to seek out new homes; and all the while the birds still sing and the water gently laps the shore.
One thing I love at this time of year is seeing the bare, leafless trees, the structure on which all the other seasons are built. We have some special shaped trees all along the coast, sculpted by the {usually} relentless westerly winds. If you are ever uncertain which way is west, look at the trees! Their west facing sides are clipped by nature, giving a very lopsided look! Of course, you have to know that the prevailing winds are the westerlies that romp and rage in from the wide Atlantic Ocean, or this doesn't work!
Here are a few such trees, some much more pronounced than others depending on how sheltered they are ~~~
This one does not like the salt water at all, for you can see the greenery burned by the salt laden winds ~~~
This stand of trees always captures my imagination, it has done since I was a child, for it looks like a giant wave of trees sweeping over the land, shaped and flowing in from the wild western seas ~~~
Slowly, yet all too quickly, the sun slipped lower, and lower; the soft, pastel shaded clouds coloured the coming sky of evening told me it was time to turn and wend my way home once more, while the sun gave one last shimmer across the cold, grey bay ~~~
On my way home, some friendly horses say "Hello!" I think they might be hoping for a carrot or a juicy apple! Sadly, I had nothing to offer them.
Until next time ~~~
Deborah xo
