Happy Christmas

 It's 16:20, I'm sitting outside, and it's not quite dark yet. There is a fire blazing in the fire pit, and I am roasting hot on the front and freezing on the back. It reminds me of when I was little and we used to swim and slide down mountain glacier streams - the dichotomy of temperature.

Neal is behind me, standing on the steps, trying to photograph the moon. The moon is almost full and rising through the pink-grey sky like a lighthouse. It's amazing, and, judging by the sighs coming from behind the tripod, Neal is getting frustrated. He has a new camera, a digital, to which he is able to affix vintage manual focus lenses. He has been ordering these from ebay with great enthusiasm (Look at this! Made in the GDR! It's only a tenner!!) but it takes time to figure out all of their idiosyncrasies, and the moon is a recalcitrant model and is not hanging about.

All of this is punctuated by two robins fiercely singing. One close, one further off. It is only from reading the robin book I bought when they nested above the door that I learned they are literally having it out. "Come on over here if you think you're hard enough. What's that little red? You talking to me? You and what army?" And yet it sounds so beautiful. I wonder how much of what we perceive of as beauty is just us, oblivious.

One of the singing robins is Jacques, named for the white racing stripe against each wing. It is usually impossible for me to tell any of the robins apart - or blue tits. There is one great tit that stands out because he is impossibly lovely - there is something about the distinction of his markings - his black bib is crisp and his feathers are stunning, I call him gorgeous George. Unfortunately he is quite an aggressive little bastard even for a bird.

It's been a quiet Christmas but a good one. It felt nice to be just us two this year, like we were for many years. In fact, the last few days have felt more normal than anything has for a long time. 

The fire is almost out and I am pretty much touch typing now as it's too dark to see. 

Happy middle days - the true mid-winter. Stay safe x