Goodbye 2010

Goodbye 2010, here's your last sunset. I’m not going to miss you, you’ve turned out to be the worst of years, few highs and far too many lows. You brought too many endings, too many goodbyes, far too much change – and mostly simply because.

No, I’m not going to miss you as you shuffle out and die, or shed a tear at your passing, or let a small enigmatic smile slip across my face like your shadow. Instead I’ll raise my bow-plucking fingers to you and dance as you die.

I have your passing planned. I’m going to take a long bath and wash each and every scrap, every last shred of your dirty, dusty, trail, from me and watch you swirl away down the plug hole. I’m going to put on new clothes, never worn, never seen by you, putting them on like an armour so that you can’t pierce me further, you’ve made so many holes to fill and heal.

I’m done with you 2010. I’ve set an outside fire to burn you off, there’s no escaping. I shall stand around the flames watching the smoke of you disperse into the sky and drink you away without a toast. No songs at your passing, I hope never to bring you to mind again. Maybe I’ll spit into the fire and curse you as you die.

If I had the power I’d kill you myself, but you’re dead anyway. To be sure though I’m burning mistletoe and feathers and salt; there’s no turning back, either for you or for me, and I’m not toasting you out, or your brother in. 2011 may be a better companion than you but I’m not sure I trust any of you any more.

See what you have done?

So here I am at the end of your reign a changed man. How changed, I don’t yet know but I feel it coming, creeping over me cold and hot, sad and joyous, bitter and hopeful.

Where now? Only time will tell

Holly's Robin

What with one thing and another it’s been really hard to post to WAWL over the last few days. I’ve had connection problems, the days have been samey, and if I’m honest my enthusiasm has been low – it has been one of my least joyous Christmas times, and I know that it’s been hard for lots of you also.

I’m finding it almost impossible to post pictures, and a post without pictures is a rare thing for me. Often it’s the pictures that drive the words, only occasionally do the words drive the pictures. I may have mentioned this before but I have films running in my heard as opposed to those people who have pages turning and those others who have columns of numbers. So to write without pictures is very hard for me.

The picture I want to upload in this post is a photograph of a Robin taken on Christmas morning by my daughter Holly using her Christmas present – a Olympus SP-800UZ a 14 mega pixel, 30x optical zoom, 3.00’’ wide LCD monitored little beauty.

At the end of the day it ain’t about the camera though. It’s about patience, light, talent and luck.

I think she was just lucky with this one.

(hope it uploads)

Mince Pies…

The sky is flat and grey, everything is damp from the rain, birds lethargically peck at the damp seed in the feeders - all so different from the crispness and excitement of just a few days ago, before Christmas had been and gone.

Perhaps it just goes to show how quickly things can change – one moment it’s a rich mixture of spice, fruit, nuts, and rich wine, and the next........ all crumbs.

I might bake some more. I hope that I still have the recipe.

Leftover days...

I don't know what happened to yesterday.

It’s that time again, the in-between time; the time between Christmas and New Year’s Day, the leftover days, the last few dregs of the year.

I don’t like these days, they’re uncomfortable, unsettling - like that big black bird in the tree. No time to do anything much, too much time to do nothing, but nothing much to do.

Leftover days, so full of leftovers - leftover wrapping paper, leftover Christmas pudding, leftover crackers, leftover turkey, leftover promises, leftover hopes, leftover dreams – leftovers. What a funny but accurate word.

I don’t know what I want to do, I don’t know what I want to eat, I don’t even know what I want to drink. I feel like leftovers myself, out of step with everything around me.

No not quite. I seem to be in step with the weather. The once white snow has gone, all turned to slush and lethal ice with rain, the sky’s a leaden grey, and the wind today has chilled the last of Christmas out of me.

I think I’ll lock the doors, light the fire, pour a drink and pretend there’s still a little poetry left in the season.

Uncomfortable times. Leftovers from my past? My present?

That bird up in the tree though.What's he looking at? Let's hope it's a glimmer of something bright in the distance. Let's hope it's coming our way.

My Christmas message...

Don't worry I'm not going to go on about sport, although you could skate on our lane the ice is so thick. I just wanted to say that I've had a great Christmas day made particularly special by the Tree Creeper that visited our feeder this Christmas morning. Even the Long Tailed Tits turned up to wish us all a merry Christmas. I feel blessed.

Presents opened, fabulous dinner done and washed up, we now await Doctor Who. How perfect this day has been.

The temperature is dropping again, the sheep grazing in the fields across the way from the cottage look like they'll need their fleeces tonight. The sky is on fire, such a contrast to the world of white beneath. It's so cold the breath hangs like smoke in the air after I've walked away from it, the icicles that hang from Elsie's cottage are three feet long, and there is no sound - even the birds are silent.

Good day, such a good day, and more wine to come - perfect.

A very merry Christmas to you all and I hope that your day has been as good as mine.

Blue Santa...

This is my oldest snow globe. I’ve had it over forty-five years, since I was a child. It was bought as a Christmas present for me by one of my uncles or aunts, I’m not sure which one though, I had a lot of them. When I opened it that Christmas morning all those years ago, tearing off the paper without reading the gummed label to find out who it was from, I felt on seeing my present both disappointed and confused.

I have lots of Santa snow Globes, all dressed in red, but this one was different. It’s made entirely from plastic, as most things were back in the sixties, but Santa is dressed in a very sickly shade of light blue instead of vibrant red. I have no idea why he isn’t dressed in red. I know of no tradition for light blue Santa’s. Pre Coca-Cola Santa was usually dressed in Green, before that he wore furs, and of course he started his career in Bishop’s robes. Yes, the light blue robes are a puzzle and I often wonder about them. As Santa’s go he strikes me as odd generally, with that Christmas tree slung over his shoulder rather that the sack of toys we all know so well, and those toys which seem to be hung from his belt like a poacher’s plunder are peculiar too - a clown, a ball, a doll, a trumpet, and a spoon… a spoon? What does it all mean?

Maybe it’s an attempt by some sixties marketing man to change our view of Santa, or it could be linked to some sort of merchandising, or perhaps the designer was high on LSD? Perhaps it’s a secret. Anyway, I guess I’ll never know.

News from Wales - Robin wars

Believe it or not I have three Robins all trying to be the owner of the space around the meal worms that I've put out on the feeder for them to eat during this bitterly cold snowy weather.

Robins are not quite what they seem. They look so cute, but they are really territorial, staking out the boundaries of their kingdoms and then defending it with their all.

The fights they are having are horrendous.

I came down this morning to see two of them fighting a duel with pistols whilst the third laid a trap for the other two by suspending a small piano from the Holly tree above them. I soon put an end to that, shooing them all off and removing the piano from the tree – well, it was dangerous.

They were soon back though, this time with hand grenades, sub machine guns, and something that looked suspiciously like a rocket launcher. One of the Robins let rip with the launcher narrowly missing a passing thrush, it would have taken him down without a doubt.

I had to stop the conflict before it escalated into something far worse than a fight over mealworms and weapons of mass destruction became involved. I did have it on good authority (Blue Tits) that the Robins had access to both nuclear and biological weaponry, and I couldn’t risk that.

So, rather than invading their territory and taking action I simply removed the mealworms. If they were going to fight, then they didn’t deserve them. They needed to learn to share.

For a while I thought it’d done the trick. But this afternoon when I returned from the horror that is Christmas shopping, I noticed a number of strategically placed sparrows in the bushes, each with a bow and arrow.

I think one of the Robins may have taken out contracts on the other two.

Nature can be so cruel.