A few light snowfalls and the Lanark Highlands drift gently into winter sleep, the fields slumbering beneath their cloaks of withered corn, barley and grasses, a shallow drift of snow. The old cedar barn is creaking and groaning in the winter wind, the brittle trees on the ridge are coated in ice and sighing. How swiftly this all seems to come about. For weeks in late autumn the whole landscape has seemed to be waiting for the arrival of something stark and undefined but dimly remembered and longed for after the long hot summer and arduous work of the harvest.
This season of snow and sleep wears no shape save that of the land itself and the structures placed on it long ago. Winter's moon has a dreaming companion in the earth below.
1 comment:
I can only wonder if this barn is part of your landscape and if you have taken some of these amazing pictures.....its as each and every photo takes me to the exact spot where your own footprints have been,,,,,,,and i can experince your very feelings by looking silently at each picture ....it is as if they are magical....what a gift to start the morning in such connectedness.....thank you dear friend.......aisling
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