iggandfriends

Life, crafty stuff, long walks, thoughts, and little oddities.


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Sleet and baubles

christmas tree

Face peeping out on the world, the only part exposed to the elements. Yesterday’s sun is replaced by cold and damp. Rain and sleet hurled on a northerly wind. The tide roars in, splashing over onto the road. A mad dash to the post office through a grey world. The gutters pour with water, and the puddles are ringed with raindrops. Then, task complete, blown back along the pavement to the warmth of home. A gradual defrosting of limbs on the radiator. A mug of tea. The Christmas tree stands, waiting impatiently. Slowly the decorations are unpacked, each one with a story to be told. Rainbow colours of memory sparkle amidst the green, a bright spot in the day.

For a Christmas Tree Blessing, see this link: http://faithinthehome.wordpress.com/2012/12/20/christmas-tree-blessing/

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Floods and moths

Off into the dark. The day’s wet has flooded the ditches and the road is awash with water. Great spumes fountain up as we drive through the puddles. In the headlights the rain sparkles like silver as it cascades down. Suicidal moths hurtle themselves towards the light. A patch of freezing fog swirls around the car. Welcoming lights shine on the hill-tops as we pass. Green eyes glow in the dark, then blink away. A rabbit? Few others are out and about this night. Home beckons as we journey on.

reeds


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White knights riding to shore

storm seaThe boom of the tide woke me early today. Steel grey ocean, white banners flying on the wind. Waves rushing in, knights riding to battle. The seawall vibrates with their impact. A loud clash of water and stone. Spray splashes up and over, soaking the road. The wind is building again outside as I write this. Another rough night ahead. Lucia’s light will be twice welcome in the morning.


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Brighter patches ahead

stormy weather

Over the hill and out of the village. The rain descends. Water lashing at the car. Streams overflowing on to the road. Paddy fields have replaced pasture. A small group of sheep look miserably at us as we pass. A farmer dressed from head to toe in waterproofs, checking the livestock. Trees stand proud, trucks reflected in pools of water. In town, the grey sky is reflected in puddles that cover road and pavement. Raindrops drum on the roof, a musical accompaniment. Shopping is a dash from shop to shop – no window-gazing today. We stop for lunch halfway back, giving the weather a chance to improve. Homeward bound, the windscreen is covered with a gentle spattering of spray. Down the winding lanes, and over the crest of the hill. A shaft of sunlight breaks through the clouds ahead. A promise of brighter patches to come.

 


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Winter waves and rushing streams

Blue skies and golden sun greet me as I step outside today. Down to the beach I go. Strewn with seaweed, light reflecting from the wet sand. Ten days I’ve been gone from here. In my absence the winter waves and rushing stream have been doing some rearranging. The path to the sea’s edge is ankle deep in spring water, rolling down from the hills. Stones and pebbles lie strewn across the surface of the strand. New pools have formed, secret worlds to be explored. Yellow periwinkles cling precariously to the edges, waiting for the rising tide. Dark green bladderwrack adorns the largest boulders, draped like a wigs across their heads. Across the stream an oyster-catcher mocks. I follow seagull footprints along the sand, meandering along. Slowly I return to the start, back across the tumbled rocks.


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Rain and flood

Wind buffets the car, pushing against me. Rain sweeps in furiously, pelting the windows. Ahead, the stream has over-spilled on to the road. I plough onwards. Great spumes of water shoot up as I drive through. The lights of the lorry in front shine out in the mist, a guiding light. Windscreen wipers compete with the spray and the rain, going at full speed. The radio speaks of weather warnings and flooding. I know, I say. I’m in the middle of it! I turn up the music for company. The rivers are in full spate, muddy brown from the peat. A wild sea bashes the coast. Slowly the miles unwind. Gradually the storm is subdued. A pause from the drumming of the rain on the car roof. A break in the cloud. Almost there. Then peace. Safety. Rest. Shelter from the storm.

The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over mighty waters. Psalm 29:3