Another beautiful winter day, appreciated much more after the southerly blast that fell upon us with force for a few days. As cold as it was with snowfall, rain and winds; we need to remember that we have had an incredibly mild winter overall. There is a lightness of spirit that comes with the sun even if the air is cold and my mind is turning to spring. I can see shoots of my iris starting to peek out of the weeds theat need to be cleared from the garden.
I started my day with an earthy, salty and sustaining brunch of mushrooms, kale, halloumi and eggs to match the depth of flavour in my food I choose Ceylon Black Tea with Pomegranate and Mint. This is a very satisfying tea, I am not a huge fan of black tea as a rule as I find the tannin levels are higher than I like. But this is sweetened with the Pomegranate and enlivened with the freshness of the mint.
I got to take a selfie with Khepra Saturday morning. He is not as photogenic as the girls and he often gets up and walks away when I point the camera in his direction. I feel the photo I took emphasises his gravitas as well as my own.
I am going to get into the garden, I have already done a little bit of hoeing, will attempt to get the rest of the ivy from around the fishpond. I haven’t seen any fish for a while and I had to take a dead fish from the pond yesterday which I think may have been grabbed by a kingfisher or a shag as it was missing scales on both side as if it had been grabbed. I will do a bit of thinking about how I will revamp the pond. I also think that I need to get some chicken wire to cover the pond after the lilies die off. In summer they give a lot of cover for the fish once the leaves die off that cover disappears and the fish appear to become fair game for the fishing birds.
So Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s out to Hoe I go.
Sharing a favourite poem written Morning by Emily Dickenson
WILL there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
Has it feet like water lilies?
Has it feathers like a bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I ’ve never heard?
Oh some scholar, oh some sailor,
Oh some wise man from the skies,
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies
