Shortest Days: Longest Nights: Coming Home

We have reached the middle of the year, and here in the Southern Hemisphere, that means the days are short and the nights are long. It's also cold. Penelope spends much of her time in her snuggly bed, and she isn't keen to be disturbed.

Is it coming home? We hope so. On our family chat group, we are all watching the Euro 2020 and commenting on England's progress. Big Brother and I are proudly sporting our colours. Yes, I look tired - it was 5am. 

The weather has been cold and wet, but when it clears up and the sun shines, the walks are always beautiful around here.

Black Mountain Nature Reserve

Walking with the Walking Crew at the weekend was cold again, but we had a mission - get to the café for breakfast - so we wrapped up warm and off we went!

I loved coming across these feathers in a tree-stump. Native American culture traditionally considers feathers to be gifts from the sky, which carry with them the power of the birds, wind and air, and the power of the sky gods. The central hollow shaft of the feather can be seen as a way to send prayers to the Creator and also to receive blessings or messages.

Apparently, feathers represent freedom of mind and heart, and the ability to travel, change, and move through life freely. Feathers are a symbol of flight and freedom; like a bird that soars through the boundless sky and has a view of all things from high above, feathers symbolise the ability to transcend and move beyond mental barriers and limitations; to see the larger picture and understand what really matters. This may all sound a bit naff, but I find it quite meaningful, particularly in these times of Covid. 

I read an article about symbolism in nature, which suggested that when you see a feather a tree, you are being asked to 'go out on a limb' for a situation to gain fruition. You are being guided to stretch your limits; push yourself higher; approach things from a different angle. Your goals and dreams are within reach: you just need to apply a little more effort to reach them. Whatever, I like them.

Cold hands: warm hearts with The Luminosity and Purple Lady

At Winter Solstice, I tend to indulge my pagan side. I sweep out the house, removing the bad energy through the back door and I bring in the new growth and colour (rosemary, lavender and hebe) through the front. I drink a dark beer and/or a mulled wine (not pictured) and I light a candle to represent the beginning of the lengthening of days and bring in the light.

Welcome to the WACA

Our first ever visit to the W.A.C.A. could be the last time the Western Australian Cricket Association ground hosts an Ashes Test Match. Sadly for us, England's performance was dire, but it was good to see the ground.

 

There was plenty of English support.

 

But the team simply wasn't feeling the love. Yes, that is a golden duck - the first of Alastair Cook's career.

 

 

 

The Aussie fielding was pretty tight as the bowlers steamed in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spider-cam was watching as we obeyed the safety advice.

 

 

Dodgy head gear was de rigueur.

 

KP looked uncomfortable out there and soon got himself out.

Spectating optimism dwindled throughout the day.

 

He's Canadian

39: I See Your True Colours

As I've been driving around back and forth from Alexandra to Queenstown I've seen a lot of support for the teams playing rugby in the World Cup. I love how almost everyone has got into the spirit and are displaying their colours from every available surface.

Naturally, most are supporting New Zealand and there are silver fern flags in abundance.

Some have divided loyalties...

Others have no such dilemmas...

And this is our house - we thought we'd go for the subtle look.

 

Some just love the tournament and are looking forward to the next stage.

Bring it on!

Week Thirty-Six: Crossing the Border

Walks in the Yorkshire Dales involve tramping across green fields past fat sheep and flourishing oak trees, alongside dry stone walls (more of which on Kate's blog). And who says stone terraces can't be beautiful?

Breakfast in a cafe in Otley - it was a little too early for the pubs to open so we made do with a full English and mugs of tea.

I love how these villages still have individual specialty shops: grocers; butchers (with award-winning pork pies); stationers (with an amazing array of magazines to suit every conceivable hobby); ironmongers; sports apparel; and a tobacconist - you may not even like smoking but the products have such seductive names - James's Blend; Black Cordial; Old Judge; American Black Cherry; Light Toffee; Curly Cut; Blueberry; Wharfdale Mixture; Broken Scotch Cake; and of course (my favourite) Best Shag.

The maze of cobbled streets and clutter of tiled roofs is as picturesque as anything in Europe.

And so to Scotland, where a boulder marks the wind-swept border, just so you know where you are.

And where we are, is Edinburgh - monuments, castles, cobbles and pubs galore!

Remember that nursery rhyme, The Lion and the Unicorn? Well, it was about the unification of Britian, with the lion representing England and the unicorn standing in for Scotland. The fact that the unicorn is not actually real and that the poem goes - 'The lion and the unicorn were fighting for the crown / The lion beat the unicorn all around the town' seems to be best forgotten.

At Grassmarket we join the general frivolity - honestly, Him Outdoors was in training - that's my pint he's gurning over. A bloke played classical guitar picking out all the old tunes that I learned in my youth and playing them a whole lot better than I ever did. It seems people arrive here in all sorts of ways - from tinted-window coaches to Dr Who police boxes.

It's encouraging to see the Union Jack and the Saltire fluttering proudly side-by-side in the stiff Edinburgh breeze. Princes Gardens are full of visitors and locals - the monuments to writers, thinkers and members of the Scottish Enlightenment. Him Outdoors poses beautifully with the Family Blackhurst on a park bench.

There are heaps more pictures of Edinburgh, but they'll be incorporated into Kate's Blog, with words. You have been warned!