Skylarks

Come with me…

It’s the Spring equinox.

When the night is as long as the day and the day is as long as night.

From this moment  there will be more light than dark …until the Autumn equinox when the cycle is reversed once more.

The first official day of Spring.

A time of balance, light and dark, masculine and feminine..

An energy shift from the inward focus winter months to a more outwardly focused spring and summer.

As the natural world around us begins to wake so does the energy shift within us .. a hopeful, excited energy..

Can you feel it ?

This winter has felt long to me.

It’s not the cold so much as the grey… the constant grey skies.

The daily trudge through the mud each morning to reach our workshop, with its cozy log burner and the muddy trudge back again in the dark at the end of the day..

I mean, I’m not complaining… gosh no, our ‘commute’ takes less than 2 minutes!!!

But, I think, by March most of us are finding the lack of light a bit wearing … right?

And then… the odd day.. a sign that the change is truly coming…

Come with me…

I am standing on the edge of the cliff, at the highest point on this stretch of coast path between Kimmeridge and Tyneham.

The sun is warm on my face, the cool breeze feels like the only remnant of the grey winter.

Below me, the waves are washing over the distinctive Jurassic Kimmeridge rocks.. flat and cracked so that from a distance they look like dragon skin.

The waves come quickly, a rhythmic wash creating a mesmerising pattern of white foam and smooth backwash … sparkling stripes over the shallow fossil laden rock bed.

I take a photo .. an snapshot .. an abstraction of this moment and suddenly in its stillness, the image appears like a painting, a series of lines and textures, no longer part of the huge body of water that makes up the Earth but a tiny work of art in my hand. While the true work of art.. continues to crash against grey clay cliffs below.

The sea glistens.

As we stand together, Al and I, in silence .. we hear the familiar, harsh call of seagulls mixed with the croaky bark of the ravens as they soar over the cliffs.

And then, the magical sound of summer … the moment when today feels truly different to all of the winter days we have stood in this exact spot …

The skylarks.

In the fields behind us, these little brown birds shoot up vertically from the grasses to sing their beautiful distinctive song while hovering over our heads before parachuting back down to earth to begin the ascent all over again.

Their song always evoking memories of long hot summer days lying in the grass on the cliff tops or walking the coast path with backpacks, shorts and sunscreen.

We walk a little further and sit in a sheltered spot ..

immediately we take our shoes off to let our feet feel the warming earth beneath us.

The cool slightly damp grass feels refreshing in contrast to the warm regenerating sunshine heating the tops of our feet.

Grounded.

Feeling the connection with the earth beneath our toes.

Breathe.

Quiet conversations around future plans, a natural flow of words … the illumination of the equinox brings the opportunity for new start, a chance to reflect on what you want to see grow in your life.

What seeds should we plant now? What changes do we want to cultivate? What’s calling us?

For Al and I, the last three years have been a time of momentous change. Except for the constant and wonderful theme of silversmithing, our weekly work life is now almost unrecognisably different.

We have regular weekends and evenings together that, up until recently had been rare. We have navigated changes in health that have required soul searching and adjustments… even the energy of our fur family, and therefore our home, has shifted from slow, loving, needful old man cat to high octane kitten craziness.

So with this is mind.. where are we now?

Who are we now?

Sometimes it feels as though life has slowed to a point that we can actually see each other again.

What seeds shall we plant and grow in our life now… sitting here, barefoot on the cliff?

We sit and talk for hours.

Saying out loud our hopes and dreams, saying what we’d like to manifest, to see grow and blossom in our world.

Taking this time of balance to rebalance things that feel … off.

To see clearly areas in our life, our relationship that are un-balanced… out of kilter.

To be honest … brutally but kindly truthful.

To clear the air.

It feels good..

Somehow, saying our dreams and hopes and needs to the sea makes them feel real.

The words have power and saying them out loud to each other releases the feelings of frustration, or powerlessness that have built over the winter months.

We discuss harsh truths, pausing occasionally to watch a peregrine falcon swoop silently past on the updraft from the cliffs or to pass a polite moment of greeting as a fellow walker clicks the gate shut behind us.

Our conversation is beautiful. Not always easy, but a moment of growth for us both.

The seeds are planted, the wind has heard our words and the dreams are already fulfilled…

Now we just have to work hard and wait.

And walk home.