("Father and son and their dog collecting a tree in the forest"; Artist: F. Kruger Vorweihnacht, 1797-1857) |
December of 2014 is nearing its end. Where does the time go? As I grow older I find myself asking that question more often. Sitting here at my keyboard I am beginning this much over do post in...well, not so much a reflective state of mind. I find myself thinking in terms of where I am. Today. In this moment. Trying to balance personal difficulties with things that I'm thankful for. With the last bit of spin on the wheel of the year, in these final days of the 365 we begin each January 1st, I strive to live...to be in the moment...and to face the future. Not to predict it, or worry about it...just to face it. It will be what I make of it. No, I can't foresee what is to come, but I can live in a way that shapes things. We all dance to a tune of our own making. Positive, or negative. Half full, or half empty. It really is just that simple.
Yule came and went. I sensed the great battle between the two kings as I toiled in the mine (I refer to my job as the 'mine'). The reigning Oak king was set upon by the Holly King, just as he is every year. The Winter Solstice marks the spot. The cold months have officially begun, and the Holly King has begun his reign.
Christmas began months before the official date at the mine. Customers were even snatching up decorations and baking supplies well before they were needed. Ah, the commercial machine that is Christmas. It's not for me, really. I did put up a tree. The only tree we have, which is an inexpensive fake one. Anymore, I am strongly opposed to the notion of buying a dead tree to put in my living room. Trees are one of my favorite things. I prefer to observe them in nature.
Glenn and I did exchange gifts. He gave me an electronic drawing pad that works with Photoshop. It's what I wanted, and I look forward to playing with it. I also was able to cook a nice dinner. My hands have been quite painful these last few weeks, so I wasn't quite sure if I would be able to handle cooking. I toughed it out and baked a nice ham. I see plenty of sandwiches in my immediate future.
I can see the difference in the outside world. The marsh has shifted from a vibrant green to the browns of dry dormancy. No snow is ever seen (at least not in the six or so years I have lived on the marshes banks), but there is a beautiful graying of things that takes place. A moody dullness. Rain is always in ready supply, and the past week hasn't disappointed. This particular wave of rain was accompanied by something that I love whenever it graces the marsh. Fog. Heavy fog. Some might even call it 'pea soup'.
These pictures are of spots along the marsh banks that I photograph frequently. The bank of Spanish Moss covered trees giving way to the sometimes muddy/sometimes wet marsh grassland that stretches to the Bull River and beyond to the causeway that leads to Tybee island. What can also be seen from the spot above is the Bull River Bridge, and the Bull River Yacht Club. This Yule morning everything was absent. Shrouded in a veil of fog. No 'thunk-thunk' of tires as cars crossed the bridge. No dull hum of boats cutting through the river's surface. Just a cottony quiet touched with the dull erratic drip of moisture collected on leaves, and the occasional call of a heron. Sublime.
From these two views of the dock remains (above and below) the bridge and yacht club are usually visible. Looking out at the wall of white felt like being cut off from the rest of the world. Like being in limbo. Not necessarily an eerie feeling. I would describe it as more of a 'dreamy' feeling. Calm and surreal. I really love the fog. Wish it would visit more often.
The holiday season has had me busy at the mine, so I am exhausted by the time I reach home. As a result, it took longer than I would have liked to post some of the photos of the final Full Moon of 2014, the Gemini Moon of December 6th. The conditions were perfect with a certain amount of cloud cover, and an amber haze that encircled the shining satellite.