Blow Ye Winds Blow

Just a little warmer, these winds from the SW. Wind that has lost its sting of cold. The desire to be outside. The thrilling energy of spring. The stirring of birth. So much written before me, I cannot compete. But I will say for those caught in our technicolour and high tech world, where thrills are digital and all encompassing and possibly more exciting, this thrill of spring showing her hand is as good. Mind you, having had a winter of comparative gentle ease and semi hibernatory, the contrast is stronger and greater. The urge to be out in it is absolutely infectious. The desire to do, to make, to use ones hands.
I just would like to be here and local. I shall find ways to do so. 
Just today I worked with out gloves. How good it felt to feel the wood of the logs without being covered in ice. How good it felt to feel the wind through my shirt, infecting my skin with that spirit of divine discontent. Another's words, but so eloquently put. The winter feeling of being wrapped in a blanket of snow, snug within my cabin, creating cabin fever now lifting as the SW wind brings a bursting forth of energy.
Now I am upon the land, but it would happen after the winter in some port. those first warm breezes, awaking ancient knowing. Wintering over. A time to sit and read and plan and dream of new oceans to sail upon. Fair winds to carry you over the next horizon with a bone in her teeth. Sails white against the blue of sky and sea. The dip and dance, the lifting of a wave moving under your keel, encouraging your passage. Lands new to your eyes, to be explored as if you were the only one to have discovered them. New friends, new ways, new ideas, restless dreams. 
I have often wondered how to replace the thrill of the digital world with that of the natural one. Tell a youngster as he stabs at the buttons of his gameboy, that the feeling of spring is as exciting as winning in his screened racing car. He will look at me as if I am half mad. 
Right now my heart longs for more  of this grand awakening at the same time of wanting others to awaken to the idea of living simply to simply live. 

Emerging

      Today the doors to the outside stood open for several hours, for the feeling was that maybe, just maybe spring might be around the corner. The first real day of thaw. Around the eves of the house there is a constant dripping. The icy footpaths began to be slushy. I could feel real warmth coming from the sun. Finally I now understand why the Swedish people stand, sit, lean out of windows even with their faces towards the sun, on sunny days, especially as the winter breaks.

     So what a good day to reopen my blog, now sadly neglected for several months. For some reason my planning to do it all properly, by writing it up first and editing. Then copy and pasting into my blog so it was "right" made me shy away from the meat of the idea. Now throwing all caution to these spring breezes, I type directly into "the box provided"!

     Ah, what a winter. What thoughts, contemplations and meditations. What experience, what learnings, what understandings. Some I will remember and record here, while others will remain frozen in time. I certainly understand why the Eskimos have so many words for snow, for there are certainly many moods, types and ways with snow. From a light fluffiness to hard semi thawed, snow with crust, snow turned to ice, snow with a shiny sheen making the fields sparkle like lakes. snow crystals that sparkle in the moonlight and so many more. 

     Then the many ideas, how to live this life here, what ways to become more and more sustainable. Observations, what are the priorities? 

     I tell myself to write this blog so the material can be used for my book, which means I have many stories to tell ............. should have done that during the winter!! But, no, little bits here and there, it'll all add up. 

     The trees have all lost their covering of snow, not even the sign of frost, and the icicles drip with a steady rhythm heralding the thaw! 

      

     

Breezes, mares tails, gusts and wind:

Written Friday 8th.October 2010

          Over the last couple of days I have got to experience the wind around my home. Nothing strong enough to need the taking in of a reef....... that is if I had been at sea! But some of the gusts made the tin roof on the barn rattle and more importantly of all I noted that the warmth in the house was lower than on calm days. So the need to seal around the windows and door is necessary before the snow storms come.

          This is just one example of the learning curve in what is needed to look after a land based home. Having lived on boats for over thirty years of my life and this being my first vessel ashore, the aspects needed to care for and look after it are different but with similarities. Wood rots, the ports leak, the roof needs caulking and the hull and bulkheads need painting!

          The romantic aspect is the music. The sighing of the pines, the movement of sound through the forest around me. As the gusts strengthen and fall, the notes change enabling each of these magnificent standing people to share their song. At this time of year the remaining leaves on the birch trees, now dry as they wait to fall, rattle like miniature cymbals adding to this orchestra of nature. I used to listen to the sounds of the ocean, now I listen to the music of trillions of needles and leaves.

          There were times in some of my anchorages. For instance, the cypress swamps of the Carolina's or deep inland creeks and rivers when every breath of wind had gone to blow elsewhere that the silence was tangible, broken only by a piece of driftwood carried by the stream scratching the side of the hull. Here in the forest, when the wind has gone, again the silence is tangible broken only by the movement of some small animal moving amongst the dry leaves.

          By realising that we live in paradise it brings home and forward in ones heart the desire and want to look after and nourish this planet upon which we live.

First Frost

          This morning I awoke to a light frost. Something I was glad of as I have been wondering how well my fine little house will hold heat. Both fires had gone out during the night and yet it was still 17 degrees inside, and 0 degrees without. The chimney appears to hold a lot of heat for some reasonable time. Good old fashioned thermal mass principals here. I have also observed that the chimney has been built of a stone that looks like it could have come from the local iron ore mines, black and with shiny glass like areas. I shall look into this further as maybe this material is as good as soapstone.  

Mouse sh*t.

Posted Tuesday 28 September 2010, written on Monday

          I've been to the BIG city again, this time to Swedens beautiful capital, Stockholm. Apart from the usual detritus of industry on the outskirts, once on the central islands surrounding "Gamlestan" (Old town), you find yourself surrounded by copper roofed architecture and waterways. The islands are often high, so views are broard and magnificent.

          The contrast between the noise and buzz of the city and the gentle sighing of the pine trees here at "Sven Magnutorp" is enormous, and finding the ballance of how to spend most of my time here and yet enable the necessary funds is a little tricky right now, until the time when I have found local and "home" work and tradeable and sharing options.

           But what has this to do with Mouse Sh**? It's about getting back to basics, it's learning about how to live here, what's already here, how to use the resources available. When I purchased the property, I agreed with the owners that they didn't have to clear out the house in the often expected way, instead they could leave everything they didn't want or need. which it has turned out to be a lot! In fact rather interesting, discovering the history of a Swedish family through the objects left behind.

           Just now there is a program on BBC radio 4 about history through a hundred objects. This is through the British Museum and therefore world wide. My findings are focused in one small place on the planet, and maybe of future interest for this blog!

          Anyway, while cleaning and rearranging furniture, I had to sweep up large amounts of mouse "evidence", which in turn got me thinking as to how to preserve my mouse edible things, for however much one tries, mice seem to like to co-habitate with us if at all possible. Sensible creatures really,as we like to keep warm, they obviously like to share. Just wish they could be house trained and discriminate which plastic and cloth to chew to line their nests.

          More on the mouse situation later, with the answers to questions like, should I kill, get a cat, trap and drive at least 2 kms away, or share my space, at the same time seal food and clothing in mouse free areas. Then again can I tune in to mouse consciousness and share with agreement? (I have read that this attitude is possible! Maybe you know of someone who could teach me)

City visit

For me its all about fetch water, chop wood. In order to live on this planet, there are things we have to do for our survival. Feed yourself, cloth yourself, find shelter for yourself, believe in yourself. These two actions of chopping wood and fetching water remind me continually that I am of this planet. They are daily actions, just like cooking food, or brushing your teeth, yet actions which have a meditative quality about them, a constant reminder that without these two elements I would die. And from this reminder I remember to give daily thanks.

To the world outside!

Yesterday I went into the city......... quite a contrast to this "slow" life.

Two things I noted, was how I allowed myself to speed up to keep pace!

In addition it was easy to get caught up with consumer illness, in fact I spent more than I could afford, although I'm really enjoying the sound of my new speakers!

Upon my return I wished I had "prepared" wood to light my stove. That is kindling and logs already in the basket, so I could light the fire immediatley, after a wet ride on the motorbike.

Something I should have remembered from my live-aboard days. Kialua, the sailing boat I lived on, on the east coast of the United States for nearly twenty years had a wood burning stove. During the winter the cockpit well was my wood locker. most of which was American cedar, so that it's perfume filled the cabin. I always kept cut logs and kindling prepared especially if I spent the day ashore. 

The River

Today I found the closest point of the river to my property, just 750 meters away and down a track which seems practically unused. It looked as if it had been a fording place for human vehicles, but still used by larger animals.

In fact a beautiful spot, and I remember thinking what a perfect place to take a beautiful girl to woo on a warm summer night........at my age it's perfectly OK to dream of what could have been! Now its for me and me dog, to sit quietly and meditate, within the sounds of moving water and the sighing of pine trees and remember those I have done my best to love and who loved me.