Friday, 29 March 2013

Good Friday in the Highlands



Deep snow-drifts on the hills today, and a beautiful light gleaming through the clouds, with glorious splashes of blue sky. While we walked, the sun was mostly shining, but then came a light scattering of snowflakes, which has grown heavier as the afternoon goes on. All is quiet, and like the beginning of a fairytale; the snow still falling, the silence unbroken.
Inside the house, the hyacinths scent the air, which has reminded me of The Waste Land (and doesn't T.S. Eliot seem appropriate reading on Good Friday?):

"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
They called me the hyacinth girl."
-- Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

5 comments:

Minerva Black the shoppe keeping cat said...

The Highlands, white Hyacinths and T.S. Eliot - what not to love? The light there always makes me think of sacred things and places, the air seems so thin. Enjoy!
Minerva ~

Justine Picardie said...

Thank you, Minerva.

kairu said...

I love that fairytale quality of the hush of falling snow!

Your hyacinths made me think of Dodie Smith's beautiful memoir 'Look Back with Love' which I have just been reading; she describes her mother's hyacinths in their glass vases, trailing roots suspended in water. It reminded me, too, of Elspeth Thompson and her wintertime indoor gardens of paperwhites and hyacinths...

Happy Easter!

Justine Picardie said...

Kairu, thank you. I have been thinking of Elspeth as well. And I didn't know that Dodie Smith had written a memoir, but I shall order it now: I'm such a fan of 'I Capture the Castle' that I look forward to reading it.

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