The dance of life.

 I remember the first time I saw a hare in the wild.   I was walking across fields with Gramps and Pincher the dog.      I thought it was a rabbit.   Grandfather delighted in telling me the difference between the two.....also the legends attached to the hare.

 Since that time they have fascinated me.   Sadly they are in serious decline..........I have not seen one for a long long time.

 When I saw a hare for sale in a shop window,  I had to go in and take a look.   I loved the sculpture .....I knew it would be perfect for the house.     Mr P and I no longer buy Christmas presents for each other......for no other reason than as you get older there is little you truly need.   So, if we see something we truly love, we buy it........in short this is my Christmas present from Mr P.

This piece will be treasured for a long time.............


.......and the mist thins to reveal the southwest......a shining wheat field, speckled with brilliant blue cornflowers and red poppies.    There are picnic baskets spilling the remains of the labourers food.   One field has been scythed, except for a single tussock.    A heat haze blurs your vision, and in the rolling landscape you sense a shining figure.    The men are standing back in a   group from the last swathe of grain and one by one they throw their scythes to cut through it.   As the last scythe flies, the air shimmers and the grain is sheared like the head of the solar king, crowned with wheat.   As the bright stems fall among the poppies, a huge hare bounds from the stubble and disappears across the fields.   The heat haze turns to mist which obscures the scene, leaving you  with the bittersweet taste of sacrifice and harvest.....the dance of life.

The path of Druidry...................Penny Billington.

Have a good weekend