After a weekend of grey weather, Monday was as bright as a button. Unfortunately the day had a schedule that would not light up anyone’s life. Just the dullest of tasks and shopping for cleaning products. But the sun was out and we really needed to harvest some vitamin D so a quick ferry trip took us to the ‘ Forgotten Corner’ of Cornwall to gather sunbeams.
Not that the two villages of Cawsand and Kingsand are in any way forgotten by us. We used to row pilot gigs for the local club.
But a much loved family member was killed in this area 7 years ago and it has taken a little while for us to feel comfortable on the roads around here. Clearly something has changed, this is our fourth visit in 6 months. Building new memories and realising how much beauty we have been missing is the tipping point. For two hours we could have been somewhere Mediterranean, even the dogs, who have no idea what Mediterranean is, basked like furry holiday-makers. No airports involved.
Sunshine really is the great embellishment of life, that and allowing time to do some healing.
Wreaths are more than just decorations. If you’re driving through town during the Holiday Season, you may see a Christmas wreath on almost every front door. Most people don’t think of the rich history attached to these beautiful Christmas decorations.
The word wreath comes from the word “writhen” that was an old English word meaning “to writhe” or “to twist.” The art of hanging Christmas wreaths originated from the Romans who hung wreaths on their doors as a sign of victory and of their status in society. Women usually wore them as headdresses as a symbol of pride, and also donned them during special occasions such as weddings. Additionally, the victors of sporting events in ancient Greece were given laurel wreaths; This tradition still being used to this day during the Olympic games in which the medals are engraved with sprigs of laurel.
Christmas wreaths are made by twisting or bending evergreen branches into a large circle which are then decorated with pinecones and a red bow. The circle shape of the wreath is made to represent Christ’s eternal love, his strength, and the creation of new life. Evergreens are commonly used in the construction of the wreath due to their heartiness throughout harsh winters and that they denote strength as well as immortality. Christmas wreaths in the Catholic tradition had four candles – Three of purple, symbolizing penance, and expectation, and one of pink to represent the coming joy. The four Sundays preceding Christmas day are embodied by the four candles that were lit each Friday of Advent at dinner along with a prayer. Similarly to Catholic customs, traditional Pagan wreaths were also evergreen circles consisting of four candles. These candles represented the elements of Earth, wind, fire, and water. Their wreaths were typically used in rituals that would ensure the continuance of the circle of life.
Christmas wreaths are a beautiful decoration for your home or office that can really show off your true holiday cheer. Spread that holiday spirit and buy a Christmas wreath for yourself or someone you love!
– Gerry Wilson
So now you know. About Wreaths and also where to find the Wilsons of Wilson. Advent+22 just keeps giving. It Our first wreath is up but I need to see how it looks in daylight.
Another day of West Country greige so I decided to use lovely colourful pictures from the weekend to brighten up my own morning and tell a small piece of local knowledge. First up though this gorgeous rust and paint combo. Followed by another.
I suppose these are the gifts from all the greige we live with. A damp, moist climate brings out the best for rust lovers. Similarly lichen and moss can be glorious and after the recent storms the ground beneath trees is littered with twigs and branches embellished by these moisture loving plants.
Which brings me to a little piece of local knowledge.
Visitors to Devon and Cornwall often think that daffodils are deliberately planted on the roadside and at the base of stone walls. These daffodils are actually the descendants of bulbs discarded out of flower growing fields during the second world war. The fields were cleared for food crops to be planted to feed the nation during war time. Some really rare daffodils can be found in quiet country lanes. One more picture of a beautiful day while I am in denial about the true state of todays weather.
The sharp morning sun of late February is a real gift to a woman who loves complicated patterns.
Sun rising on railings
We are staying with some friends in South East Cornwall , I have a cosy nook in which to write the blog.
What I dont have is any wifi currently but a short walk once I have written this will take me to an mast where I can ping this off out to the world.
Our sleep was somewhat disturbed by a South East Cornwall traditional past time. Boy racers charging around village lanes in cars at 4 in the morning at high speeds. Engine noise and headlights on whitewashed walls break up the nights sleeping pattern. The boys wind their windows down to whoop victoriously as they pass the cottage on their loop of dangerous pleasure. I worry for them and my head is filled with the music of T-Rex as concurrently I remember a crumpled mini desolately wrapped around a tree. The beautiful man of glam rock, Marc Bolan, splattered like a trifle onto his windscreen. Memory is a funny thing in the middle of the night. Testosterone funnier, but dangerous. There were no sounds of screeching brakes and crumpling metal. As a long term resident of South East Cornwall I know these manifestations of masculinity echo through the countryside night after night. These boys have skill and courage, just like me they have woken up again to a Cornish morning.
Yesterday was all about avoiding a Storm that was battering the south coast of Devon and Cornwall. We had to go to Truro to collect my typewriter from its service and took a chance that the North Coast might not be so badly affected.
Typewriter collected, and that is a whole other blog, we called in at Strong Adolfo on the Atlantic Highway for coffee and some lunch.
Sartorial and comestible choices had uncanny similarities!
Lola and Hugo looked on, their doggy colour blindness giving them no clue why we thought this was so funny.
All they really wanted was to get to the beach and blow off some energy.
I’m not sure we exactly avoided the storm by travelling South to North, we just altered the direction that the rain hit us. The video below gives you a minute of wave action. We were not tempted to get in for a swim.
All in all a Sunday well spent, now its time to get on with the week.
Saturday was not a day for swimming, so great were the winds and the rain that it was not a day for beach huts either. Which is why I managed to get this shot of beach huts uncluttered by the human form.
All started well enough.
But the weather was just not going to permit safe sea swimming so dog walking on the South West Coastal path was our substitute activity. We explored the area around Swanpool in Falmouth and ate picnics in the car while the weather swirled around us. The photography owes a lot to filters and this delightful seaweed which has been ripped from the sea floor by the storm.The seaweed provides the colour which is picked up in some of the shots.
I used the silky water filter and saturation filters to put some colour into a very grey day. I also accidentally created this double exposure which has quite a retro feel.
So off we go into a Sunday Celebration of the Silky Water feature as applied to a raging sea.
The good news is that the sea is less raging today so swimming is back on the Sunday agenda.
The sun shone for the last walk around Sutton Harbour and the Barbican of 2020. It also snowed a little.
Our evening went to plan . This is the photograph for our family and friends distance, thousands of miles and many time zones, social media party.
Television watching for two, oh the dizzy heights!
The plan had actually been to go to bed early and show 2020 the disdain it deserves and sleep through its passing but actually it feels only responsible to not only see the year leave but also to make sure it has actually gone and shut the door behind it. For such a responsible observation a far less frivolous drink is required.
A fine cup of decaffeinated Yorkshire Tea and a Cornish Shortbread. Far less giddy than that party pleasing Snowball. Also guarantees a good nights sleep, essential after a year like 2020!
I can confirm 2020 left the building and the door slammed shut behind it.
Christmas 2020 it wasn’t Christmas but it was Christmas because that’s what it was.
The day started early with some ‘Bobbing’ admin.
Tranquility Bay
Mulled cider and mince pies were the actual admin that was required today.
Then it was a swift drive home and festive sandwiches made ready for beach #2 Harlyn Bay.
Harlyn Bay
Don’t be fooled by golden sands, if Tranquility Bay looked like madness, Harlyn was madness+. A great walk in freezing temperatures followed by a convivial two van picnic observing all current regulations for Covid-19 control.
The dogs, of course, moved vans due to the superior picnic being served next door.
To be honest the idea of returning home and then cooking a traditional turkey roast began to feel less desirable the colder we got. A cup of hot tea was about as far as we could stretch when we got home.
Much later a mushroom Wellington made an appearance.
In between walking and talking we zoomed and whatsapped with people near and far.
Christmas Day in a Nutshell with not a cracker in sight.
Our last day with the relative freedoms of Tier 1. Today Cornwall is downgraded , that’s a whole new set of rules to remember! In
What is the meaning of morsel? A morsel is a small amount of something, a tid-bit, a sliver, a nugget usually of something of high-quality and much desired but not truly needed, like a morsel of dark chocolate or a morsel of gossip. Originally it referred specifically to food. It is something that gives a disproportionate amount of non- essential, exquisite pleasure.
My morsel for Pandemic Pondering #252 is an evening dog walk a couple of fields behind Rame Head. A snippet of the day. Morsel is a word we use, mostly at Christmas time, when the day has already given so much but self control is non- existent and you just desire that little but more of something. Today was unexpectedly gorgeous, fabulous sunshine and not too cold for an autumn day in Cornwall. Long walks on the coastal paths and outrageous laughter with friends as we rested on wooden benches overlooking the sea. Perfect conditions for fifteen minutes, or indeed, a morsel, of time, for a glorious sunset.
Setting outDog faces in the gloomPeak MorselBack to the van for supper.
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