It has just passed mid-day and the frost that was clinging to the top of the hedge is only now loosening its grip. I’ve not thought much about this before but I’m slowly realising that there is something comforting about this time of year.
The photograph was taken before dawn when the fog had dispersed.
Not only was there frost but also fog, so that only a few of the trees in neighbouring gardens were visible from my house. I live on the edge of town, not in a wood, and usually from my back door I can see oak, ash, copper beech, willow, bird cherry and a row of great leylandii. However, this morning only the leylandii which come close to my house, and two oaks were visible. The leylandii stand in a large brooding block, thankfully to one side of my house, otherwise, I might have no view at all. The two oaks, now with most of their leaves removed by strong winds, looked like spectres appearing and disappearing from the drifting fog.
Wrapped up! Enclosed! Held! Secured! That’s what I was thinking about this morning; how the winter wraps its arms around me, comforting me like a big blanket, allowing me to dream and to make plans.
I awoke very early this morning, too early, and my dreams followed me into the study where I wrote these lines:
Somewhere on an ocean,
Floating on the sea,
Guided by Great currents,
A raft, a life and me.
Flying fish for breakfast,
Salted meats for tea.
Whale spouts, luminous nights,
Wind in the sail;
At home, on the restless sea.
I know this dream. I’ve dreamt it before, more than once!