fire and fog

These are the days of fire and fog. The skies burn at sunrise and sunset, with crisp blues in between. Some days there's fog. We climbed Lough Crew enveloped in a grey shroud, frightening each other with ghostly tales of the witch who lives there and pretending to be lost on the lonely hills. But mostly we've stayed at home, curling up in front of the fire enjoying the books and presents that came with Christmas and reminding ourselves that spring isn't so very far away and that the forecasts for snow might be wrong...

getting there

The same view from our front door this morning. The top picture taken at 7.50am with the moon in a barely lit sky and then by 8.10am a much brighter view. It's amazing what a difference 20 minutes makes in terms of daylight at this time of year. We are slowly getting there.

january hymn

What is probably not that obvious from these pictures is the icy wind- it would flay the skin off you and it certainly made our eyes water as we faced into it on the return walk home. There's been a brushing of snow across our bit of the world, just enough to justify lighting the fires early and perhaps making the odd mug of hot chocolate to warm us up. Our evenings have been spent reading, playing Ludo (a Christmas gift to William which has been so popular and, as it requires absolutely no skill, one even I can occasionally win at) and when all children are tucked up in bed we've been watching The Killing. We are now on Series 3 so some strict rationing has been put in place but sometimes that doesn't work and we accidentally overdose. So with winter winds howling outside, Sarah Lund running into Denmark's dark scary places (each time, will she ever learn that's where the baddies are) and our toes toasting by the stove, this January is passing along nicely.

new beginnings

image via pinterest

A new month and a new year. Outside a new moon shimmers in a starry sky and the fox barks somewhere in the wood. Inside we are warm and sleepy, the end of the day and the return to school and work takes its toll. The new year brings the excitement of the unknown - all those months to fill up doing and living and being. I am looking forward to 2015. I think possibly because the last two years were rubbish. But this one feels different, even though it's only a few days old. This one has the scent and purity of fresh paperwhites barely unfurled but still beautiful. This one will be a good one.

goodbye january

Goodbye January. Woollen sodden damp grey brown wind swept storm blown fireside days leafless moss springing puddles wet dogs wet walks miles of clouds, you January, are the opposite of June.