swan lake

already last night, i could hear the cacophony down on the lake. tho' birds are normally quiet at night, when it's time for the migrating swans to make their yearly winter stop on our lake, they do not come quietly. i don't know if they don't fly together, so they have much to discuss when they see one another or if it's the swan equivalent of "are we there yet" from the younger, grey ones to the adults. the whole bevy of them lifted noisily off in groups as i approached with my camera and so i didn't manage to get a shot that i really liked.

legography lately

i don't know what's happened to my words. they dry up in my head before i can coax them out my fingers, but with the light returning, at least i'm inspired to take some whimsical photos. it's probably also helped that we've actually had some snow. we hoped our lake would freeze enough that we might even be able to skate, but it thawed all weekend, so alas that isn't going to happen. but at least the ice was still solid enough for the minifig skater. the unicorn sparkle fairy continues to be my go-to fig, but i'm also having a bit of fun these days with batman. and getting quite a kick out of those aliens from series 13.

what's helping you through the shortest month?

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i hope these guys are finland's entrant in eurovision.

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it's never too late to discover LEGO, as this blog proves.

thank you, amy for introducing him to LEGO and for sharing with me!

winter blues

a proper snow at last.
let's hope it sticks around for a little while.

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seriously hard core stitching.

taking down the tree

i don't really know why i put off taking down the christmas tree. it was easier to do so this year, because it was set up out in the brewery and so it was a bit out of sight, out of mind. but today, as the sun shone through the windows, i got out the boxes and began the task of dismantling. i was thinking that it should feel like a sorrowful activity somehow, a reminder that all of the festivities are over. but i couldn't really make myself feel badly about it. i think i had the same enjoyment removing each ornament and packing it gently away in the boxes as i had getting them out.

i was thinking that i should have made sabin help me, but she was a friend's house, and really, i found that i enjoyed that it was a solitary activity. it gave me a little moment with each of the ornaments and i found myself remembering back to where and when they were acquired and pondering how many years some of them have been on my tree. it was fun thinking of those trees of christmases past. i had some quiet, happy moments of reverie tucking away my little fish and the precious bouquet of flowers that started me on my way down the purple ornament road, clear back in 1990. if sabin had been here, i wouldn't have been able to have my own internal monologue in the same way and it was what i needed today. it left me feeling happy and satisfied.

now all of the bright baubles and strings of lights and even my purple tinsel (i lose some of it every year, but try to pick most of it off and tuck it into a zippy bag to be used again next year) are tucked away neatly in their boxes, waiting to come out again next year.

the only moment of sadness was for the trees themselves, the sacrifice they made to brighten up our dark december days. since we cut them down ourselves, they are actually still green and fresh and hardly even beginning to drop their needles. but they served nobly and we enjoyed them, so it wasn't all for naught. we'll use them once again in the wood burning stove when they've dried out sufficiently, so they will serve another purpose and be useful and enjoyed one more time.

and already today, where the welcome sun shined most of the day, we could begin to see the return of the light, it's still light enough to be outdoors doing chores at nearly 5 and just a week or so ago, you'd better be out there by 4. so it was time for the tree to come down and the ornaments to be packed away until we need their shining warmth again next year.

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52 places to go in 2014.

winter's welcome arrival

at long last, yesterday morning we awoke to a proper, thick frost and then this morning, there was the dusting of first snow. don't get me wrong, i'm not complaining about the gloriously long, mild autumn we've had. but we are ready for winter now. the earth and the plants and the hibernating hedgehogs need a proper freeze. it helps them sleep and rejuvenate. we all need a quiet, waiting, resting period. we need to hunker down, to settle in and snuggle up. we need cold, crisp air filling our lungs when we step outside. i've been craving it without even realizing it until it was here.

why does it seem like every season is the best one when you're in the midst of it?

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anna maria horner's new fabric lines are delicious.

and she's so genuine and authentic. 

reading about them on her blog is like a big, warm hug.

practice run writing a small stone

i'm planning on participating in a january mindful writing project. i was alerted to it by a facebook friend. the way it's described sounds like an extension of the already daily mindful effort i make in taking a daily photograph. only instead of a photograph, it's a daily snippet of writing and the project initiators call these little bits of mindful writing small stones, and we know how i feel about stones. so anyway, i'm going to give it a whirl (despite being a little put off by the new ageyness of the site). but just because they're new agey doesn't mean i have to be, right? besides, i want to be more open in 2013 - open to other ways of thinking and looking at the world and open to new people, experiences and opportunities. (dang, that's sounding an awful lot like a new year's resolution.)

i thought i'd give it a little practice run here, based on a photo i took because i noticed the golden light and the shadows it cast.

small stone ~ golden light, the sweet scent of hyacinth, short winter days mean the light must be embraced when it comes. but the light also embraces - a bobbaloo, a special mushroom, a unicorn and a papier mache head - products of creativity from people i love, bathed in golden light.

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some spectacular photography.

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the r boards on pinterest: rainbows. raw. rest.