December 2nd 2013

 

I like December. I like the dark. It is a time to sit and reflect, to light some candles and to sit quietly with a glass of wine and take stock. And that is exactly what I'm doing tonight, as the image above shows of my ablazen mantelpiece. Life is what we make it. We can rush about or we can be busy but ensure we make time to reflect and unwind. I've been blogging since 2007 and have just had a look back at my first few hesitant entries which back then was a genuine record of birds I saw. Here is the entry for November 29th and 30th http://wessexreiver.blogspot.co.uk/2007/12/sand-bay-28th-and-30th-november.html

 

Reading my wildlife blog just now, it seems like another age. My life is almost 100% unrecognisable from 2007. Back then I spent most of my time in Dorset with my previous partner Thelma, who by then was beginning to show some worrying signs that her small cell Lymphoma was taking hold. Thelma died in March 2011 and it still seems unreal that someone I spent quite a few years with is no longer with us. As it also seems strange that I no longer head down to the Blackmore Vale regularly.

 

Reflecting on the past however is only healthy if it informs us of our future way of doing things. Maudlin in the sepia of the past is not good. And so tonight I've enlivened the mood by playing music, Christmas music, I love medieval church music, but, the lyrics here are from Jethro Tull, their thought provoking song Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow. A long favourite of mine.

 

Through long December nights we talk in words of rain or snow,

while you, through chattering teeth, reply and curse us as you go.
Why not spare a thought this day for those who have no flame
to warm their bones at Christmas time?
Say Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.

Now as the last broad oak leaf falls, we beg: consider this:
there's some who have no coin to save for turkey, wine or gifts.
No children's laughter round the fire, no family left to know.
So lend a warm and a helping hand:
say Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.

As holly pricks and ivy clings, your fate is none too clear.
The Lord may find you wanting, let your good fortune disappear.
All homely comforts blown away and all that's left to show
is to share your joy at Christmas time
with Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.

Through long December nights we talk in words of rain or snow,
while you, through chattering teeth, reply and curse us as you go.
Why not spare a thought this day for those who have no flame
to warm their bones at Christmas time?
Say Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.