Rhi Celt

“Most people liked it best in the early spring, when the woods down to the river seemed to shift almost before one’s eyes from snowdrop white to daffodil yellow to the shimmer of bluebells—when the rooks cawed furiously in the beeches, the garden woke to life in a splurge of rhododendrons, and the young lambs caught their heads five times a day in the fencing down the drive. I shall always remember it with the profoundest gratitude, though, as it was that May, that last May, in the last of my old summers.”
― Jan Morris, Conundrum

“The warm September sun brought up the aroma of frosty crops and damp earth. It wrapped around the men standing in groups, making them sweat underneath their good wool jackets and igniting the sharp stink of overheated and excited people. Everyone had been preparing for weeks, and they’d all travelled miles to be there, on the edge of the small village. The harvest was mostly finished, and a collective sense of tired gratification lay beneath the day’s nervous energy.”
― Julia Merritt, horse/man

“The arrival of New Year heralded a symphony of riveting colors awakening our inspiration, as the world is our canvas, our profound souls becomes inspired when the brushes of good deeds and triumph of our love make their way into the heart of beloved .”
― Dr. Tony Beizaee

“December is... by Stewart Stafford

December is all that we give,
And whatever we receive,
It is those who surround us,
And those who have taken leave.

December is celebrating light,
Where only darkness dwells,
It is the ripping of wrapping paper,
And tempting culinary smells.

December is letting go,
Of all the past year's fails,
And starting anew in January,
As time again chases its tail.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford