As heaving dark grey clouds yawn open, light hits yellow lichen on a wooden rail, causing colour to ripple in intense succession before giving way to hope and renewal.
As we reach the shortest day of the year with the Winter Solstice, it seems all hope is extinguished. But is it really?
When the mornings are dark, and the evenings too, and in between is but a blurry dark blue, escape becomes all important.
Ritual, habit, practical and deliberate actions, create a soothing sense that things can be different.
For those left behind, death is not always final.
Imagine the world from a different vantage, and you’ll see its falsehoods and lies clearly. Or will you?
The Dark Months; a series of moods in words, expressing fleeting feelings and thoughts …
Despite discouragement, we can sometimes see things for the better, and in that, we are the magic. This is the twelfth in the series ‘The Dark Months’.
There’s a magic to the sunlight in the dark months. #TheDarkMonths #Sunlight #Moods #Meditation #Hope
Bridges, like gateways, are things we must pass. Are they a metaphor for something else? No. 10 in ‘The Dark Months’ finds out …