I was going to post about my London mudlarking day today, but looking at the photos, I felt none of them really do justice to the experience. It was a cloudy, blue day, the sun shining from the wrong direction, the mid-December wind cold and bitter, and my eyes stinging, but it was a wonderful experience all the same. The tide was out and the riverbed exposed, revealing its treasures, and walking along it one of those great, poetic in their solitariness, experiences.
I went to London to do my Christmas shopping – and I did, even if Oxford Street’s lights felt a bit too bright after the delights of the river and even Liberty was a bit disappointing. This year Christmas has come all too soon, but rather than look forward to it, I’m already dreaming about January – cold winter sunlight, snowdrops, pink tulips and a sense of a new beginning.
My Christmas photos have come out all blue this year, quite unintentionally I must add. I’m surrounded by snow where I am now, the Winter Solstice sun hanging just above the horizon. Christmas Day is set to be cold, colder than I have experienced in years. But the day will longer already, carrying a distant promise of spring.