Year: 2018 (page 3 of 10)

Danse Carribe

I was not familiar with this Andrew Bird song, until I saw the BBC’s production of Little Women at Christmas last year.

I like it, there is something so sing-song about it. When I hear it, I can see leaves changing colour, hayrides, pumpkins piled high, fresh apple cider, hot donuts and crispy skinned sausages. Barn dances under the full harvest moon and twinkle lights glowing. I can see Indian corn almost completely shucked and gathered by their dried husks, tied up with a ribbon and hanging on doors. I can smell the aroma of spice in the air, mingled with the scent of wood logs burning in open fires. When I hear this song, I can see autumn.

 

‘Tis Autumn

On Saturday, we celebrated the Autumnal Equinox by Mr. Michie taking me to a glorious horse chestnut tree he had found and we spent a good 20 minutes collecting handfuls of fallen conkers. We brought them home, scrubbed them clean, dried them and now they’re sitting in a bowl, nestled around a candle, with their shiny chestnut brown coats gleaming.

Since Saturday, it feels as if Mother Nature has kissed Summer on the cheeks and bid her adieu. It has been decidedly chilly and rainy. This morning we woke to clear skies and it had warmed up to a balmy 38°F when we left for school.

I’m not complaining; I love the crisp air, the crunch of leaves and acorns underfoot, the air that smells at once fresh and of an earthy dampness of leaves slowly decaying on the woodland floor. There is a magic to this time when one season slips into the next.

Fly Me To The Moon

Fly Me To The Moon, is one of my favourite songs. It’s a song that has transcended musical boundaries. It’s a a close call, but I think Frank Sinatra is my favourite male singer of this tune, it’s his pacing that just makes it. Julie London’s rendition is perfectly classic, but that’s a close tie with the gorgeous Doris Day’s recording and if I’m in a jazz mood, only Vince Guaraldi will do. But, if I’m going old school, you can’t beat Bobby Womack. I’ve had this album spinning all week.

Here’s to the weekend, long may it last!

The Written Word Endures #11

The Master Hand looked at the jewel that glittered on Ged’s palm, bright as the prize of a dragon’s hoard. The Old Master murmured one word, ‘Tolk,’ and there lay the pebble, no jewel but a rough grey bit of rock. The Master took it and held it out on his own hand. ‘This is a rock; tolk in the True Speech,’ he said, looking mildly up at Ged now. ‘A bit of the stone of which Roke Isle is made, a little bit of the dry land on which men live. It is itself. It is part of the world. By the Illusion-Change you can make it look like a diamond – or a flower or a fly or an eye or a flame -‘ The rock flickered from shape to shape as he named them, and returned to rock. ‘But that is mere seeming. Illusion fools the beholder’s senses; it makes him see and hear and feel that the thing is changed. But it does not change the thing. To change this rock into a jewel, you must change its true name. And to do that, my son, even to so small a scrap of the world, is to change the world. It can be done. Indeed it can be done. It is the art of the Master Changer, and you will learn it, when you are ready to learn it. But you must not change one thing, one pebble, one grain of sand, until you know what good and evil will follow on the act. The world is in balance, in Equilibrium. A wizard’s power of Changing and Summoning can shake the balance of the world. It is dangerous, that power. It is most perilous. It must follow knowledge, and serve need. To light a candle is to cast a shadow…’

-Ursula K. Le Guin, Earthsea, The First Four Books, A Wizard of Earthsea

Back to School

School started in full force on Monday and I wasn’t quite ready. I spent most of Monday thinking it was Tuesday and a large part of yesterday thinking it was Wednesday. Who knows what that was all about? I think it’s just wishful thinking that I’m closer to Friday again!

{Image HERE}

HELLO, September!

Hello, September! I don’t know how you got here so quickly? I wasn’t ready for you. I’m still not ready for you. I’m not quite prepared for the call of back to school, to the change of pace that brings. No more afternoons spent reading books in the woods or strolls that end with cake and coffee or living in the moment of summer, music playing late into the night and burning candles slowly becoming the only light as evening quietly closes in. The march of back to school is its own drum, I was having too much summer fun and I’m not quite ready for it to start beating again, but we will find our rhythm to this beat again, as we do in all seasons.

{Image Dinara Snizhevskaya // Pinned HERE}