Our
Hebe made this very handy toasting fork.
Perfect.
Brrr! The wind has changed direction!
In
the autumn the trees and hedges loaded themselves with nuts and berries in
readiness for a cold winter, and we waited to see if the wind would swing round
east from its prevailing south-westerly direction to bring frost and snow – but
that never happened; until today (well, maybe “yesterday” or even longer ago
when you read this), January 21st.
That’s
not without significance because in every case the 21st is the
prediction day for the month ahead, the wind direction on the 21st
being the likely prevailing wind for the next few weeks.
So
it seems our awaited winter has finally settled in, and bitter cold it’s been
too. Such a shame because, in the
prematurely mild weather, the spring flowers have begun to develop – we have
daffodils in bud in our garden, and ours is often late because we live at the
top of the hill where the wind blows cold every year.
How
glad I am of our great guardian ash trees just over the wall in the adjoining
ground. They are old, with much dead
wood, and chuck down sizeable limbs that break up easily and make great
kindling.
The
woodstove keeps Komorebi warm and snug, but I can hear the great trawling sigh
of the air breathing over the land in that particular way it always does in the
deep cold, restless and foreboding. A
vast, wild, hungry, prowling sound.
But
I have a tin mug of hot chocolate, a ginger biscuit, a new detective story
(Inspector Singh Investigates: A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder), and a soft
fluffy luxurious extra blanket on my bed, that Buzzfloyd brought me at the
weekend. Perfect.
It
ought to be nice to listen to the radio too, but I find it disappointing that
almost every single programme – whether drama or documentary/news – bears a
tedious resemblance to eavesdropping on a row.
The favourite phrase of all the interviewers seems to be: “Ah, but . .
.”
Off.
Goodnight,
cold world. May God be good to the
creatures starving and shivering as frost creeps over the land. May kindly hands leave bread and seeds for the
sparrows, scraps of meat for the fox, the gull, the crow. And a little plate of something for the
badger.
P.S.
I wrote this on Tuesday night; then yesterday – Wednesday – was wet but not so
cold. I was glad to light my stove at
the end of the day, but no hard frost. This
morning (Thursday), I boiled the water in my tsetsubin for my early tea, and
said my prayers peacefully with a hot cup of Early Grey in my hands, feeling no
need to light the stove until later when the morning chores are done. It was cold, but in a glad, bracing, welcome
kind of way. I wonder if we shall have a
stretch of hard weather at all this year?
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