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OH MY GOURD (#SingingAsTheDarknessLifts 61)

 OH MY GOURD


 

This morning the sky holds the grey fizzle of spent firework stars. There is a stillness to the day and it carries an artificial smell that I cannot quite place.

 

Alt Text describes this week’s photo as a plate of candy on a blanket. I say it is: 'Pumpkin plate with ceramic leaf and ghost, and pretend gourd celebrating the orange sweets from the trick or treat selection.' 

PodBean Link for those who like to listen

A fox, fur the colour of honeycomb in my headlights, ran across the road in front of me as we drove home from Evesham on Saturday. It just made it, and I found myself hoping it would be able to reflect on its timing when crossing busy country roads as darkness settles in. If it looks for slightly bigger gaps I think it would do itself well. Thank goodness for good brakes and eyes that notice the flash of something moving from verge to verge.

 

The three hour drive also featured a range of fireworks which felt like such a lovely way to see them. Quick glances towards their brief extravaganzas of sparkle. This week I almost said no to going to the local fireworks display, and I am so grateful to Kath for reminding me that it is one of our traditions. I think this is the first time it hasn’t been organised to take place on November 5th and perhaps that felt slightly out of kilter to me, but that is definitely no reason to ditch a tradition. There’s something settling about honouring seasonal moments that gives good grounding. And part of the tradition is chips for tea which always delights me.

 

Perhaps I felt slightly behind with things because I forgot to make pumpkin soup at Hallowe’en. That and the fact that no one knocked for trick or treat this year. I was late buying the sweets, but took a special walk out to get some before dusk. I put all the orange ones aside as a special treat for me only to find I had the full selection to choose from anyway!

 

Thank goodness for the reliable tradition of the Eat The Storms Hallowe’en Special. It’s always good to settle down for The Storms podcast, and a special episode is special indeed. This one had a lovely mix of poetry and prose and gave the perfect opportunity to sit still and listen. It is good to be still from time to time. I shared Rapunzel and Clambake this time as they seemed to fit the Hallowe’en theme. It always makes me chuckle that I wonder what I will sound like reading the poems and then like to give myself a congratulatory nod if I read well! The sweets on the plate were a splendid accompaniment to the episode.

 

Even though I no longer work in education, I still notice half-term. It feels strange to see how it punctuates peoples’ lives from the other side. When I worked in a school it gave me a clear marker of when to start thinking about planning in the Christmas shopping as well as a much needed breather after Autumn Half Term 1.  A definite marker of time which reminds me that it is even more important to me to mark the traditions. So now I will stop changing the lyrics to Mary’s Boy Child to ‘Oh My Gourd’ (see what happens when the choir you’re in is getting ready for the Christmas market?) and instead catch up with myself, make that soup, and start that Christmas shopping list.

 

I’ll leave you today with Beaver Moon which was written after watching the firework display in 2022.

 

Beaver Moon

 

We stood under the sky

knowing the moon 

would soon be full,

finding fireworks to match 

those moments that have us breathless.

 

I told you that beavers are rodents –

the second largest after capybaras.

You said you didn’t even know they were rodents.

 

I told you that my favourite firework 

is the jellyfish that comes 

after the Roman Candles 

which follow that rapid explosion 

of rocket after rocket.

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