The last few days have been beautiful here in our little corner of the world: blue skies, rising temperatures and the unmistakable hint of spring in the air from the moment the light begins to filter into the sky.
I’ve managed to make a few early morning trips along to the farm this week to see my biggest boy, just as the day is beginning (all activities are carved round our little daughter’s feeding and sleeping times just now and farm visits have been a juggling act, grabbed wherever possible here and there!). I’ve been so loving the chance to get along there first thing; it’s been amazing just to breathe in the dawn air, muck out with the farm cat purring round my ankles and walk the old boy the long way round to the field, stopping to let him graze at the snowdrop-lined verges as the sun appears above the fields.
Charmer is doing well just now, and although there’s still a good few “transitional” weeks to wrestle through, I’m glad to be most of the way through another winter. At 22 years this year it’s more of a challenge now for him to stay on an even keel weight wise in these dark muddy months; but so far so good, and we even had the first of the winter coat beginning to come out yesterday when I gave him a wee brush – a sure sign the seasons are on the cusp of change!
I love to see the first glimmers of spring arrive into our days; and there’s nothing quite like turning the corner onto the farm track to see the barns, the little church at the foot of the hill and the horses grazing in the fields between, all framed by a pink sky.
Looking forward very much to this next season and all the light it will bring. Hope you are all having a lovely week, and Happy Friday all! 😊
This morning, we pick up the keys for our new house, and start a whole new chapter for our little family.
It’s a step we’re glad to be taking, and one that’s so exciting that I’ve been up since 6am all a jitter; but it’s difficult, nonetheless, to leave behind another chapter which has been so wonderful.
Just sitting this morning alone on the decking in our back garden, watching the sun creep up the sky behind the trees – glinting between them, light splaying out in bursts wherever it find gaps. Overhead, seagulls, crows and geese circle and pass; pheasants calling their usual panicked squawk in the woods; and in the garden here the sparrows and blue tits are coming to life, vying for the best spots in the bushes and fluttering from tree to tree.
It’s so peaceful here at the very break of day, and I have loved it for over six years, and will always remember it so fondly. I do hold out hope there’ll be the odd garden bird to visit us in the new house too, and no doubt a whole world there I’ll be so sorry to leave several years down the line.
For now though, this morning, before all the excitement begins, taking some time to enjoy our little house in its little garden, village and countryside, that I have loved so very much.
Woke this morning to the sun glittering on the silver road, the kettle providing dual purpose today, filling my flask with the much needed first coffee of the day and also, cooled a little, sweeping the thick layer of frost from the windscreen as I squinted against the low golden sun and got the day off to a crisp, white start.
Reaching the farm, it was a cheerful Charmer who greeted me this morning from his stable, all bright eyes under his floppy gingery fringe and feet lined up at the stable door ready to greet the day and his waiting fieldmates. Got our usual weekday-morning routine underway, handing him his first handful of pony nuts as I changed into my wellies and waterproofed up, the second to keep him amused while I threw on his rug (his cosiest one today at -3 degrees and a hint of snow to come) and buckled it up, headcollar on and ready to go. Watching our step across the white sheen of the yard, we walked side by side towards the gate where three of the boys stood waiting, ears forward, idly watching our approach.
Safely in the gate and the last couple of handfuls of treats successfully extracted from my pocket by Charmer’s incessant expectant nosing – always looking at these times 5 years old instead of 20 in his excitement – one of my favourite moments of the day was upon us, just that brief breather inside the field, setting the boy up for his day out and taking a moment to look out to sea, watch the sun rise and properly begin the day.
Over at the water trough there was ice to be smashed, and as is inevitable at this time of year the walking was over a tricky combination of mud and pockets of ice, so when I did get back to the car – work boots back on, heater up full blast and travel cup steaming happily in the holder – it was all much appreciated and a relief to get cosy.
Still though, for me there is nothing better than those few moments in a muddy field with ice-cold fingers, standing beside my scruffy little pony and looking out at the world at the first light of day.
Early February always seems to me to be a time of change and new light – a time to open our eyes and take in the different outlooks the world all of a sudden has to offer, after what invariably seems like a long January often most definingly of darkness and unimproving weather.
This February, still in its early days and finding its feet, arrived at the end of another cold snap as the most recent storm of the winter relented and moved off, leaving behind a dazzling display of nacreous clouds, a unique phenomenon reaching us unexpectedly in a breath-taking and calming swirl of pastille colours as the good weather replaced the bad; the new sight of blue skies mingling with the reflected goodbyes of the storm.
In the first few days of this month, I have watched – side by side with the horse in the field or from the house as darkness wanes, doing the morning pet feeds and making coffee – as the sun has risen and light has crept into our dark days in so many beautiful ways, watching with the hope of a new season as the night gives way to the break of day.