Fire pit reflection

Does the weather or season affect your mood? It’s April springtime in Wales

Although it has rained a few times this weekend that’s okay the rain is what makes Wales such a lush green beautiful place.

I love this time of year everything is waking up tiny Hawthorne leaves dafodills in their yellow dresses, the ivy seems to boast a new brighter shade of green, the trees on the mountains no longer bare they are dressed in new clothes swaying in the breeze welcoming crows who caw and dart to and fro gathering twigs and straw to build this year’s nests warm and safe surrounded by new leaves and a warmer breeze.

Baby shrews scurry along the canal bank chased by my black cat Luna who also loves the rebirth of spring for different reasons. The nights are lighter.

I’ve spent the weekend clearing my cottage garden building a fire in the fire pit sitting reflecting watching the late sunset.

I feel my mood is starting to lift. It’s been a hard challenging year. The loss of my best friend Donna floored me and I miss her everyday I’ve chatted away to her as I always did tell her what’s happing and all about having to rebuild our Retreat and how its taken it’s toll.

But I’ve discovered some amazing people strangers who have become new friends.

My relationship with my husband Jeff we’ve never had an easy ride but he’s my rock and I his. We are , complete opposite but I can’t imagine me without him at times this year we’ve wondered if there was a light at the end of the tunnel as we would complete one job on the retreat something else would come up.

But yesterday we finished the floor tiling all the way through the cottage hard graft when your doing it after work and weekends singlehandedly whilst also building a shower room and fitting a kitchen

So last night I sat by the fire pit in my little piece of paradise and gave thanks to the universe.

For lessons learned and strength and patience I didn’t know we had.

For good friends chosen family and rebirth of this coming year.

I’m here holding out my hands and trusting. I’m ready for whatever it brings

With the quiet knowledge that this is a new chapter.

I’ll go back in times of reflection and reread the older chapters for without them I wouldn’t be here now.

Sat by the fire watching a black cat look up at the sky. Feeling warm and grateful for all that I am.

2 thoughts on “Fire pit reflection

  1. Did you notice in the fire photos, joolz, the apparitions seem to be alive with the flames. But flame is not only destructive, it’s also renewing and warming. It’s frightening and provides services at once. It’s a paradox as all elements have two sides – two meanings. I hadn’t thought about that much until recently.

    For all the years spent looking up at the clouds and all the things I see in the sky, I’m now trapped inside and the wood burning stove is Simons and my companion. We sit together, he purrs beside my head snuggling at the end of the feather stuffed sofa nearest the stove by the brick wall that emanates heat into the great room. It’s where we watch the birds, great huge red shoulder hawks by day. And at night we listen to the horned owls – who-who-who-hohohoooo who. Me, that’s who. I call back to her- she calls back to me and it goes for 20 or 30 minutes until she spots her prey for the night.

    The hawk – he’s my father I’m certain of this; one day after listening to a recording of Ram Dass, I looked at the small mahogany “magic box” carved by a luthier friend of mine who made it with his hands from one solid piece of wood for the bit of ashes I have left of my dad. I said to the box, hey so if you’re really here watching over me like that man said prove it, show yourself to me somehow. The very next day I took a shower and as always I turned to watch the trees out the window – a narrow glass pane that runs the length of the stall – and there light but so large – he sat on a bare branch and looked at me. No, looked into my eyes – into me.

    He sat still as a stone still keeping his eyes locked on mine. And I quickly rinsed my hair and looked and still he sat. I grabbed a towel and my iPhone to snap a photo. And when I got out to the deck to grab a photo he was still there and ever so quietly before I hoped I would scare the hawk – I slowly reached to position the shot and the hawk let out a screeeeeech looked to me once again and spread his wings. Within two flaps of a wingspan that reached so far so wide he was about four or five kilometers gone in two pumps of air. I watched as he turned and flew higher and came back around the house and flew away in the opposite direction.

    That night I sat with Simon again. The fire cracked and popped on some pine needles I’d tossed in for kindling. And there I remembered that his ashes were once taken out of a fire so hot it melted bone right into ash.

    But the hawks been back several times. The days when I think nothing could pull me up and out of my death sentence. And there in the tree right in front of my eyes is the red shoulder hawk, his Rufus colored wings and black and white checkered belly. He’s gorgeous. Simon doesn’t speak hawk. He speaks house wren, and blue jay, and woodpecker. He speaks red winged black bird. He can’t speak hawk or owl because to them he’s prey. But he stays close, my Simon. He’s a mamas boy. He says “ma ma” it’s done in a way that takes his energy and makes him yawn.

    But he tries. And we sit together by the fire of renewal.

    Look at that little girl playing in the first photo. That’s one thing I see anyway.

    One day I’ll see you by the fire and we will talk about what we see.

    You’ll know I’m coming for a visit. Just look into the flames.

    I will live as long, I must.



    1. I love this fire hoto its my screen saver to remind me that there are other dimentions for us to explore.
      You asked for confirmation and he came. What beautiful evidence that energy does not die.
      He was right there.
      My 3 cats love the log burner taking turns to stretch before it.
      Brian says mama too.
      He so vocal and a mammys boy.
      I visualise you standing outside my cottage feeding tbe geese and laughing.
      Yes i see you here.
      Abd if i see it in my heart i know i will one day hold you by your hand sister.
      Be gentle with yourself.
      See you soon


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s