09 December 2012

Looking up

We're in the bleak midwinter now alright; so what better to do than look up:

Mid-morning light through the trees.
Ivy-clad trunks provide shelter and food for small things
With the approaching season, I thought I'd better include holly
Seeds still there for finches and tits
At each dawn this week, the waning moon was still in the sky
An Aralia of some sort shows off its berries overhead
For Donal: Sorbus (rowan) and crocuses
planted this week

I always find this a hard time of the year; all the more so this year as the anniversary of my brother's death approaches with midwinter. How lovely that at his former workplace his colleagues and friends chose this time to plant a rowan tree in his memory and asked his family to be there. Their memories, tales and tributes were touching and comforting. Thank you to them all.

There's grief, and there's joy too. Cycling home from work on one of the cold dark evenings this week, I heard someone whistling loudly as I approached Dundrum Road. Looking around I saw a young man, earbuds in, whistling loudly and conducting, like a budding Bernstein, his imaginary orchestra and choir in Beethoven's Ode to Joy (have a listen here. If you don't have much time go to 03:40).

I think I smiled all the way home.

Finally, there have been questions asked...
So here she is:

Why look up? Much more interesting to be down to earth.
Have a good week all.


  1. Erica - I appreciate the reminder to look up. I often dig, rake, mow, plant, and weed looking down, that I miss so much else around. Thanks.

  2. Thanks Claudia. There's not much opportunity for digging or raking here in Ireland at the moment, garden work is mostly tidying up (nice in its own way); so the option of looking up is a good one.