Ani’s Advent 2020! Who wants to come and play?

What with covid, lockdowns and everything else that has gone on this year…we don’t know what we will be able to do about Christmas or however else we celebrate the midwinter.

One thing we can do is have a countdown and a PARTY… socially distanced, of course!

So I will be running my Advent Calendar again this year…

Starting on December 1st, I would like to post a guest post every day from one of my friends. You can have fur, feathers or scales, two legs, four or none… all are welcome! Even humans… as long as you are writing about your animal friends…

Just email Her at findme@scvincent.com with your post, a bit about yourself, your links and up to six attached pictures. She’ll do the rest…

What are you waiting for?

Posted in Art, Blogging, cats, depression, Elusive realities, England, Friendship | 17 Comments

Amnesia…

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A nameless shadow flits across the face of Science.

The Theory of Evolution has not been proven.

The ‘missing links’ for each species have not come forth from the fossil record.

The constituent parts of our DNA have proven far older than the Earth itself.

They can only have come from deep, deep-space.

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Continue reading at France and Vincent

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“They do not hate…”

dt-136

But they who love the greater love

Lay down their life; they do not hate

Wilfred Owen

A plate from his 1920 Poems by Wilfred Owen, depicting him

Wilfred Owen was killed in action, aged 25, 4th November 1918,

just a week before the war would end.

 

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Sequence…

Autumn
Maturity
A bejewelled harvest
The regeneration of spring
Promised

Golden
Nature’s riches
Shaped by necessity
Growing ravaged by circumstance
Yielding


Waiting
Patient purpose
Reshaped by compulsion
Eternal life made manifest
Dew-kissed

 

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Bounty #midnighhaiku

Stored for future need

Red for winter’s paucity

Summer’s harvest glows

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Jessica Bakkers Reviews “Through the Nethergate” by Roberta Eaton Cheadle

Reblogged from Jessica Bakkers:

Through the Nethergate by [Roberta Eaton Cheadle]

When I started ‘Through the Nethergate‘ I thought to myself, “Ooo, a good old fashioned ghost story!” Then suddenly, author Roberta Eaton Cheadle went and changed the rules. Ghosts became semi solid, famous (and infamous) figures from history were involved in socio-political intrigue, and the Big Bad was nothing short of Lucifer himself! I’ve rarely come across a book with such left of centre twists and turns, where the stakes rise and rise until it literally turns into an epic battle between good and evil.

Amidst all that, Cheadle weaves in historical nuggets about characters, places, and events spanning from Roman times right up to the late 1900s. Her history accounts are very well researched, and I found myself learning a lot about historical characters and events that I only had a passing knowledge of.

Continue reading at Jessica Bakkers

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Solstice of the Moon: What on earth…

“…is that?!”
I immediately went into ‘there has to be somewhere to park’ mode. You don’t just drive past a humungous mound without stopping…not when it is so very obviously man-made. And especially not when there are two of them. And in an urban cemetery, of all places! We have had a bit of trouble with mounds in the past, especially on workshops. They have a tendency to go missing. But here, we found ourselves with a brace of the things and completely unexpectedly too.

We had just said farewell to our companions after a fabulous weekend and were simply planning on getting back to the hotel, relaxing for a while and starting to process what we had seen. We wanted a fairly early start the next morning as we had a long way to go… and were fully intending on being sidetracked several times. I also had a road through the Scottish Highlands in mind that I have not driven in many a year and which is just too glorious to miss. So, instead of sensibly heading south towards home, we would first be heading north to Inverness. An early night was in order.

But, ‘back to the hotel’ went out of the window as we parked the car and read the signs on the cemetery wall and gate.I was rather intrigued by the memorial to the wives of William Thom. The surname has a certain significance to those with an interest in ancient stone, but this Thom was a handloom weaver from Aberdeen who wrote poetry in the vernacular.  He was born around 1800 and died of consumption aged forty-eight.
Then another sign caught my eye.
“Ooh, Pictish symbol stones too!”
“Bugger,” said my companion, reading a notice. “They’ve moved them.”

It was a shame. The information boards showed them to have been rather  beautiful… especially the running horse. I would have liked to have seen them. The stones are around fifteen hundred years old and were found re-used as part of the building materials for the medieval church that had once stood here.

Continue reading at France & Vincent

Posted in ancient mound, Ancient sites, historic sites, Photography, Poetry, scotland road trip, Solstice of the Moon, Stuart France and Sue Vincent, symbolism | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lore Weavers: Coyote Tales…

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Coyote is a Native American culture hero, buffoon, and trickster figure who mixes animal and human traits to mostly comic, often catastrophic, and sometimes salutary effect.

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The world in which Coyote moves can be conceived as a parallel to the Aboriginal Australian Dreaming and to the worlds of most other early indigenous mythological story cycles and systems including those which are native to our own shores.

Continue reading at France and Vincent

Posted in Art, Books, france and vincent, Mythology | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Centenary

King George attends the burial of the Unknown Warrior, in Westminster Abbey, 1920. Artist Frank O. Salisbury

For some reason, the image moved me to tears. The ninety-four year old monarch standing, black-clad, alone and in silent respect, beside the tomb of a man buried six years before her birth on the centenary of his committal to this final resting place. One woman, alone. The grave, outlined in the red of remembrance poppies, is lit by a cascade of white orchids and myrtle… a replica of her wedding bouquet, first placed there over seventy years before, and following a tradition begun by her own mother, Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, in 1923, on her marriage to the man who would become King George VI.

Lady Elizabeth’s elder brother, Fergus, had been killed during the Battle of Loos in 1915, his body had been buried in the nearby quarry and the details of his grave lost. As she walked down the aisle, the young bride paused to lay her bouquet on the grave of the Unknown Warrior in a personal act of remembrance that has been upheld and continued by royal brides ever since.

The story of the Unknown Warrior goes back to 1916 when the Reverend David Railton, an Army Chaplain on the Western Front, saw a grave marked by a rough wooden cross, upon which was written simply, ‘An Unknown British Soldier’.

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

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Optimist #midnighthaiku

Optimist at work

Grateful for each gift offered

Spring will come again

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Posted in Photography, Poetry | Tagged , , | 7 Comments