thebeginningofitall

Our locally grown, locally sourced, locally scrumped, arduously pulped, pressed and pasteurised apple juice was toast of the day yesterday evening, mulled into a piping hot winter warmer, bubbling away on the stove for the crowds of food lovers and seekers of early festive spirit alike.  The crisp evening was perfectly apt for the turning on of the christmas lights, the sky was clear, decorated with stars, our first proper frost this winter season.

Christmas is an evocative time for many, the true meaning of this seasonal festival has become a bit of a fallacy, do gooders blame our materialistic modern consumerism, ‘christmas has become too commercial’, I say nonsense, the true spirit of christmas remains dear to us all, whatever it may be and that is what’s important.  The Pagan celebration of Yule, one of the traditional Celtic Fire Festivals welcomes the return of the light on the 21st December, the longest night of the year, some suggest christianity hijacked this ancient festival for the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ.

The hybridisation of family, paganism, christianity and an interaction with mother natures cycle are what makes this midwinter festival so important to me.

The frost was glistening white this morning, covering the fields and the hedgerows with a magical, silvery sheen.  The sun’s warmth was suprising, our hedgerow friends having endured the bitter night will have welcomed the breaking of the dawn and the sign of a new day.  Most of us are sadly, so far removed from the daily struggle that is the cycle of nature for the birds and animals that inhabitat our winter landscape we rarely spare it a thought.  I often think of the preparations of a safe leafy bed for the night, the detailed organisation of a winter’s food store, exploration of nature’s larder, dodging from bramble to toadstall, Winifred Mouse, Ratty, Moley, Badger the heroes of my childhood books, I secretly still hope its all real, why couldn’t it be?