Yuletide Thoughts

Ask a dratsi what does time mean.

Our sea furry mammals are oblivious to a watch… They nonetheless respond better to moon and tides.

Time for humans means something else. If you too obey timetables, you are shackled to a routine.

When school bells ring for a last time, you suddenly feel lost for words. Aye, no more alarm clock for a while! Yule has returned with its magic. Home is ready for the pagan and the scent of the pine tree. Cinnamon sticks and melting wax as darkness has reached its climax…

First day of freedom in the snow, as icicles graced the garden to my delight. It is a moment of reconnection with the natural world I treasure so dearly. Out in my Caribou snow-boots, I wandered off in the perfection of nature, feeding my dear garden dwellers and free water out of the ice.

Their constant presence feels my heart with so much joy, I owe them help for survival in such seasonal conditions. After all, why should we be the only ones to feast at Yule?

What is Yule without its cortège of hellery? 60N at a crossroads with the Nordic realm means everything.

Two mighty storms in between Hogmanay and now, have swept across geos and skerries…

Storm force winds swept the old year away, as one would sweep away old dust.

January welcomes brand new gales.

So I hold tight to candle sticks until the sky turns to bird tunes.

Tis nearly over, this Yuletide.

Nisse will return to the barn for a final bowl of porridge; tinsels and baulbs, back to the den… Blue mantelpiece back to candles without Yöl cairds…

But then, again, Nisse still smiles.

And Aa da best fur da new year.

Thanking you all for your presence, likes and contributions to Arcania.

Namaste 🙏🏻 fae da wild North!