At the turning of the seasons

Yesterday, I stood for a while by the end of the lake. Just watching.

The swan’s flight to land close by was so graceful. However, I’m still not sure whether this is to check me out with friendly curiosity or warn me off.

And I mused on this threshold we are traversing. Real in the elements and figurative in our minds, yet never in a single step.


What do you see
as you’re standing on
the threshold
of the season?

Do you see lights
and busy bustle,
craning necks for the
satisfaction of senses?

Or do you notice
the sense of longing
for what is to come?
The time of waiting.

+ Sue Heatherington

What I do know is that Jules’ level of excitement has just gone up several notches with the chocolate-filled Advent calendar.

And the single swan appears quite content to be here in this little valley in South West Wales. At least for now.

Pause. See differently. Re-story 🌿