Returning, reflecting...

... and a wander through time

Hello friends. It’s been another little while, hasn’t it?

Rather than go on about how busy life is, I’ll instead share snippets from my writing. That has been continuing, albeit to a lesser extent than I was enjoying this time last year. I had a delightful wander through my journal, and found so many things I know I can craft into something to share with you. This feeling, in itself, was a delight - I’ve never gone back through journals, before now.

I hope you enjoy, and I will endeavour to be back soon, in between researching farming systems (my current course of study is agricultural management). 

---

7 Jan 2025

This was from a prompt from the Winter Writing Sanctuary which expanded into my journal and, when I wrote the snippet out here, it became a poem instead of a story.

I found a new world on the fence post in the horse field 
that winter. Jagged mountains of dainty ice crystals  
in a miniature landscape. Towering cliffs and shattered stones 
where tiny intrepid explorers might tread. 
What do they seek? 
The glittering diamonds, the treasure within 
the ice. They race the rising sun, or go home 
with only wet moss, and thirst for the next adventure. 

Two tiny, intrepid explorers?

---

25 Nov 24

I am fortunate to co-host a poetry group on LWS, and in November, we did some activities together around wintery things, like words and images. The activities were shorter than usual, and we finished with a free-write session, from which some of the most beautiful poetry poured. I wish I could go back and hear it again.

Since I can't, here is my humble offering, since the frost is lingering on our grass and in the shadows.

I inhabit the frosted morning
Sheltering in the crackle
Glimmering in the kiss of winter. 
I am the whisper of
	marcescent leaves
	frost-hags descending
	frost flowers blooming.
Apricity warms my skin. 
I melt
I melt
I pool and puddle
Hold the moon in my body
Ever-changing.
Every change
Caught in crystal cobwebs
Dancing in clouded breath.
I fall
I fall
Into icy leaf mounds
Into darkest nights.
Apricity warms
my heart. 
I am winter
I am spring
I am all. 

I had a whale of a time with the words we played with in this session. They call came from the Winter Dictionary, by Paul Anthony Jones, which is a beautiful book.

---

22 Nov 24

I am blushed clouds in a blue winter sky.

I am a bright beacon, a window caught in the sunrise, a rising star.

I am fingerprints on my phone screen.

I am the old door, discarded in the front garden.

I am a lone bird flying overhead, joined by a buddy, a comrade, a foe.

I am what I see, what I notice. I see that star rising among the snowy fields. I soar the skies, not alone. I lie in the cold, discarded but staring up at the blushing clouds in the winter sky.

This is my morning. I notice. I breathe. I feel.

Being in a moment, inhabiting it, breathing it, this is my meditation. My medicine. I had forgotten that.

---

That's all for today. I hope you've enjoyed this little wander back through time with me. It's been a nice reflection for me, to go back through my journals. It has reminded me that it doesn't matter how far away I might end up from my writing, the desk, the journal, the pen, they're always there, waiting for when I return.

Take good care, friends.

K x

Hi there! I’m Karen, and here at On the Outside I write about navigating life with my compass of curiosity, courage and connection, going via adventure and healing. I live amongst the south Welsh mountains, with a hoard of books, a garden full of foxgloves and goldfinches, drinking tea. Basically, a hobbit. Wandering, not lost.

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