The sun shone on Christmas Day and beamed long rays of golden light into the house. The slow unfolding of the meal, the unwrapping of gifts, the popping of corks seemed more relaxed and cheery this year. At it's heart these 12 days are a . . .
I went down to the shore for the shortest time, the wind blew the cobwebs from my mind and I remembered my purpose. This next year 2013 will be precious the sea said to me. And somewhere in that preciousness is my purpose it . . .
I lost my mother to cancer at the young age of 33. In 2013 it will be 50 years ago. The memories I have of her are scarce. I just know that she gave us her best years, a parting gift of unshakable love and a caring respect for those who struggle through life with a broken . . .
The ice has gone for now and the lake is deserted and quiet. During December last year I walked around its perimeter pacing out the last days of his illness. . . .
The swans are back on the lake for the winter. Just one pair, they come every year. I have to go deeper into the forest to glimpse them up close. At first they are hidden by the reeds but as I step into the water they stir and swim towards me, elegantly posing side by . . .