The storms have ceased, for now, we must rest.

Though mild and misty instead of crisp and even, the dreary dampness seems to soften all the edges and bring silence to the garden and landscape beyond. 

A few clear nights afford us, gift us, with vivid sunrises. The fire glow embers lighting the farthest point on the South eastern horizon long before the sun, which we barely see now from our garden. East facing we catch a glimpse from the office window as it sneaks behind the skeletal tree belt edging the field, before it drifts, tired, westwards, hidden by houses and trees. In the garden by the log store the path gets greener and mossier by the day a forest skating rink.

In the gardens at Easton we gather greenery, to wreath make and decorate, celebrate the season. As things finally slow down, the big jobs are all done, this gathering seems gentle and we honour the garden in its evergreens. I feel drawn to look up the mythical and meaning of the boughs we forage, before we twine and twist them into circles of life, lively greens, golds and red bursting berries, as our ancestors did long ago.

Ivy, representing eternal life, growth and resilience. Its twining, grasping stems signifying enduring bonds and lifes continuity.

Holly for protection, standing watch over us in the darkest time, vibrant berries a beacon of nourishment for the wildlife sheltering in its boughs.

Mistletoe, while we know it as the kissing plant, mistletoe shines fertility, vitality and health. While the trees are bare and seemingly lifeless the pom poms of this plant pop out as lush green decorations.

The making of wreaths and twining these and other evergreens together is a symbol of the circle of life, eternity and the natural cycle.

As I forage through the evergreen walk something flashes in the corner of my vision. I stop, expecting a Robin or BlueTit but am surprised when I come eye to eye with a Goldcrest. I hold my breath at its closeness, but it seems oblivious, fluttering like a hummingbird on the branch tips, hanging underneath then hopping up to the next section, leaving no bough unchecked. I feel blessed and linger as long as I dare.

So many birds are feasting right now, I wonder if they are expecting a cold spell or if it’s just instinct to fill up and feast, while the mild weather allows such a bug feast.

YULE 

To me this is the most magical of all festivals, one where I pay most attention and am most likely to heed the rituals of this season. Maybe it’s because of the feeling of new beginnings, maybe the dreams of the sun returning and we now can turn and look forward, the days will get lighter no matter what.

My research for Yule again brings up many different beliefs, it’s tight because of the Christain monopoly on the season. There is the argument repeated over Season starts.. With some believing the Solstice marks the beginning of Winter, some that it is midwinter. I promise myself that I will start reading more books on the subject rather than relying on dubious internet sources. Whatever, I am determined to mark it well this year and take my own meaning from it. 

The word Solstice means (and everyone agrees on this) ‘The Sun stands still’  at its highest point for three days. So, because this is a time for reflection and new beginnings I decide I will use these three days as so….

On the 20th the first day of the sun being still, stopping, I will spend the day looking back over the past year, the highs and lows and how I have changed. No regrets, just gentle learning. At dusk I light a candle and turn on the many fairy lights around the house. This year is done.

The 21st, Solstice. We celebrate with a lavish breakfast before going to a nearby woods. The mist lingers and there isn’t a breath of breeze in the woods, everything seems to have stopped, the silence is breathtaking. I feel a magical flutter in my chest, is this connection? I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, we made it through and now we pause to savour this moment.  The rest of the day is spent feasting and being thankful.

The 22nd is the last day of the sun’s pause, but the first day of the new sun. I read that this new sun is born, he is but a gentle babe, not yet strong, the harsh winter months still yet to come and his strength may not yet be there but have faith he is growing stronger everyday. I wanted to spend today looking forward and planning the year ahead. I have big plans for our small garden and feel that excitement pulling to begin buying seeds. But life has other plans and some things seem to tether me still in the past. Sometimes I think I hold big expectations of myself at times like this, as if life will suddenly change because the sun has moved. A childish hope like when I watch a Christmas movie where there’s always a happy ending and I expect love to prevail (along with the magic). 

As I light three candles at dusk I remind myself this is life. As with the Holly and Ivy, the circle of life is about enduring, growing and learning resilience. The light is returning, there is hope.

This blog is a little different to the last and maybe the future ones because it feels that way.

In the garden……

Do nothing! But gather greenery, marvel at what you achieved, twine a wreath for your door then sit and rest, dream of the future when you will return to the many jobs that gardens bring.

The only thing we learn from the garden in December, from a gentle stroll around it is, everything is resting.  

Leave it be.