From the sublime to the downright silly. Yesterday I posted a picture in the sun and the day before a sunny picture in the hope that we had turned the corner and had begun looking towards spring. It was not to be - it is snowing again and getting to be a little tiresome. Though I have to admit the garden is very beautiful again. Dressed in its winter glory, still bathed in darkness yet juxtaposing the whiteness of the snow in perfect contrast to bring out the blue that is the dawning sky. And so for the last hour (it is 6.30 am) I have been sitting in my kitchen watching it fall while writing and thinking and musing while the house sleeps on. The school sent a txt (isn't new technology great) to say its closed - yippee, snowballs, snowmen, sledging... ah the folly of youth. And then I remember what this blog is about - for it is not youth but a reflection on having reached FiftyFive and I remember Sandy Denny singing this song, which I absolutely adore and it does seem to ring the FiftyFive bell, who knows where the time goes - though sung by the wonderful Kate Rusby:And then I couldn't decide whether to post Sandy Denny's version - a little rough in the recording but her voice is so wonderful and tragic for she lived such a short life:
