Let me share with you today’s trek
in blue & white…
time has become irrelevant…
Let me share with you today’s trek
in blue & white…
time has become irrelevant…
awakening
Today’s dawn,
29 November, captured at around 0900 GMT.
a bit of orange
titanium.
I saw antlers when I captured this view of the island this morning. Eyes were riveted to small tracks, but if you look at the shadows, you might just see solid deciduous horns, usually branched, of an animal of the deer family.
Hence, caribou :-).
Filed under 60N, Arcania, celebration, earth, geopoetics, haiku, home, white, writing
Tales from the light
Newgrange, Co Meath, Ireland – Maeshowe, Orkney….
Celts and Norse folk have much to share in terms of burial chambers and beliefs. If it is said that no great Celtic tale in between Samhain and Yule is told, with maybe the exception of Daghda’s mating with Boand, and Oengus, the son who is conceived at dawn and born before dusk, was born. And although this interpretation has little to do with the winter solstice, it nonetheless evokes the Celtic motif for the pre-eminent Feminine darkness containing (notably) Daghda’s seed of light … Well, to both Celts and Norse folk, the winter solstice is somehow used through a mystic construction. If I am not mistaken, Newgrange’s stone sepulchre was constructed in such a way the primal rays of the sun would shoot straight into the inner chamber… Just like Maeshowe! That great chamber cairn houses not only Europe’s largest collection of Viking graffitti but also a dragon! (It’s an unforgettable visit, highly recommended, should you happen to tour the Northern Isles.)
Amazing parallels! Please check out both sites: Newgrange Co Meath and Maeshowe and solstice
Speaking of which…winter sunrise
Over the years, my daily commuting to Lerwick has enbled my heart to marvel at wonderful sunrises and sunsets. As we are pod-racing to the winter solstice, dawn and dusk gain in momentum. My daily trek north took an additional twist yesterday, as ice and snow from an Arctic Low has hit my latitude for a few days now…
From my bus window, I dazzled at the hues of blue gradually blending with those primal rays from the sun. Stunning palette of colours as we were driven to the islands’ urban hubl!
Filed under 60N, Arcania, celebration, colours, earth, geopoetics, haiku, home, images, island
Hello, dear Beaver Moon.
I love that name from the Native American world.
Four weeks away from the longest night in our Northern Hemisphere…
I have just added an application on my iPod – Perpetuum, a “revolutionary lunar calendar”… It gives you our satellite’s phase in comparison to the solar position in between equinox and solstice.
I often consult my dear friend as we are sliding to the latter at great speed. According to the (British) Met Office, days shrink like lambswool soaked in the wrong temperature… Between two and three minutes respectively in the morning and afternoon each day. Sunsets become increasingly precocious, whereas sunrises, increasingly lazy.
That time in between day and night
With shorter days, catching the sun slide between silk and salt turns out to become a real game of hide-and-seek. And yet, such precious moment allows plenitude in one dominant tone – blue.
Dusky blue.
That’s when I love wandering on the very edge of the island. Everything turns a ghost – each rock, ripple, roller and cloud… Even the moon dares not appear until we taste the very reason for crimson. Sand feels like lead under my feet. Each blade of dancing sand dune grass follows my steps. The wind fills my head with ideas, as my hand reaches for each wave.
My sandbridge littered with footprints,
as if an army of dreamers conquered the whole of Arcania… And yet all I can hear is wind, the gentle rhythm in ripples, since rollers sleep in the shoormal. I lost my heart inside the sand and found shelter in-between dunes, where I can run after Titan or Europa.
I once described night as a dame, indigo blue… I caught her grace in half circle… As she watches us from her height, all birds have found their favourite roosts with the exception of a daring flock of greylags that flew around lusher hillsides.
No matter where my eyes turn to, everything was draped inside blue.
Chronicles from Arcania
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About fantastical places and other stuff
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Discover the world of birds at BirdNation!
Extinction of birds
Poetry & Prose inspired by people and places in the Western Isles of Scotland
Stories.... with a touch of India....
celebrating creativity in Shetland
Studio updates for Scottish Artist Douglas Robertson
Hay Writers' Circle ~ Established 1979 Based in Hay-on-Wye, Welsh Borders.
Chronicles from Arcania
Chronicles from Arcania
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