Winter sunshine and awakenings


This is a photo from a couple of weeks ago, prior to our recent heavy snowfall.  The snow lasted about ten days before being washed away and now we have more weather warnings, this time for gale force winds and torrential rain.   I can hear the wind howling around outside and blowing down the chimney – no doubt when I wake up tomorrow there will be fallen trees and broken branches.

In spite of the inclement weather we are gradually beginning to see the shoots of new life.  The little Snowdrops below are growing at the base of a very old grave in my local churchyard.


I love Snowdrops, their tiny nodding flowers hang above tufts of small sword-like leaves and over time they form banks of pristine loveliness along the hedgerows, at the bottom of tress and through the woods.  I also love the churchyard because it’s peaceful and there are 180° views for as far as the eye can see.

Although the church is pretty, it’s seldom used.  The graves in the graveyard commemorate the lives of people who died at the beginning of the last century; they are all well tended but no one goes to visit them any more.  I often wonder what stories those people would be able to tell me from their lives during the Romantic Era. I also wonder what they would make of me with my none too lady-like hiking boots, jeans, sweater and raincoat.  It’s so rural here the chances are they would think I’m a witch and cart me off to the local dunking pond.  If they found out I was reviewing a report on the progression of antibiotic resistant infections and cytokine storm first thing this morning followed by a day of conference calls about technology, budgets and globalisation I would be building my own bonfire by now!

Suffice to say just like the Snowdrops breaking out from hibernation, I am starting to feel a little more alive and awake.  I may look like some demented science experiment where the mad professor (Bunsen Honeydew strikes again) decided to make a new kind of animal by taking bits of human, armadillo, snake, naked mole rat and pig but at least I’m beginning to feel like a person once more.

I think I have been lucky.  I haven’t lost any finger or toe nails, my hair seems to be coming back the same colour as before, I don’t have permanent peripheral neuropathy and as far as I know my heart is still OK.  There’s a chance I might get an A for effort when I see Dr C this week and an E for compliant behaviour… I still encourage all the other patients to speak up about their side-effects instead of suffering in silence and to carefully check the expiry dates and dosages on their drugs.

12 thoughts on “Winter sunshine and awakenings

  1. The snowdrops are so utterly lovely!! I love to visit churchyards too. We have a teenie tiny one in my hometown, dedicated to Maria. During summers it’s a little drop of heaven. Can’t wait till Spring starts and I can spend more time outside 😀

    I don’t know what permanent peripheral neuropathy is but I’m glad you don’t have it and that your heart is OK!

    Much love and strength 🙂


    • Thank you Purnimodo. You’ll have to post photos of your little church. I’m fascinated by churches of all kinds – its one of those childhood things that spilt over into adulthood. Gravestones always make me wonder what their owners lives were like, how similar and different they are to our own. Like you I can’t wait to get out and about more when the weather is better. We’ll have new lambs here soon and seeing them bounce about in the daisies always make me smile. Big hugs to you 🙂


    • They so pretty aren’t they, I wish they lasted a little longer but no sooner are they gone than we have bluebells and daffodils…. spring is on the way 🙂


    • Thank you Catherine. We may not get the warmest weather and our transport infrastructure is awful… but we can be grateful for some very pretty countryside and hidden gems like snowdrops.


  2. That’s my girl! Throwing herself headlong into research combined with thoughts of natures continuing renewal and those who have gone before. Grave yards can be strange, quiet, reflective and enlightening places. They offer solace, in that ‘life’s journey’ is ultimately the same for all of us. They provided a safe haven for many different wild plants and animals and they provide information about the lives, loves and hardships suffered by previous generations. As for being a witch, I think you’d make an excellent ‘white witch.’ A bringer of kindness, good will and support for all those around you. The return of the ‘ginger peril’ is at hand. Look out world, Tracy’s back!
    PS. Love the photo’s.
    Love and {{{hugs}}} always. Silverback xxx


    • 🙂 Fortunately I’m quite resilient. My shell (the 5’9 gift wrap for my brain) has been more resilient than I thought considering Dr C’s regular attempts to bring it within an inch of total shut down. I don’t know if an underlying spirit of positivity helps, perhaps it does or perhaps it just makes the dark times pass more quickly. Maybe being ginger and the brunt of much childhood teasing makes you mentally tough too? All is good 🙂 Much love dear Silverback xxx


  3. All those past lives are precious, each in its own way. Viewed over the distances of time they are often difficult to understand; sometimes even running contrary to the values of today; incomprehensible. Sometimes when you dig you are just left…perplexed. So you come back to precious. That remains. Yours too, in every sense.


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