Native Blue Banded Australian Bee on Nasturtium flower… not seen for a couple of years…
Out of the blue, there’s a flurry of activity. Tiny birds don their spring plumage and proceed to attack their own image in windows and other such shiny objects, vying for a pretty female, but more attracted to their own as a competitor to vanquish. How true is this for humankind? Vanity, narcissism, anger, violence as if there is a brain worm becoming active in certain damaged psyche.
It has been a protracted, chilly spring and wet. Eventually, daffodils and snowdrops are replaced by bluebells, narcissus and native wild flowers, cover the fields, underfoot.
Through the storms that raged, native purple swamp hens became regular visitors to my studio and deck, boldly tapping on the window to see if a morsel of food was available… I love these curious birds but now they’re down near the ponds again raising a brood, so hopefully they’ll come for a visit with the chicks.
I walk daily when the mad winds ease. I garden, paint, write and live a very simple life that is fast becoming as self-sufficient as we can make it with a second greenhouse on the way shortly to put together like a giant mechano set.
My next book is still far from truly underway as my own mind sifts and prioritises what is most relevant to me to share in a crazy world. That said, nature continues her journey with or without us… cherries, apples, pears and plums begin to produce tiny, nubby fruits; strawberries and blueberries are fast forming now along with tomatoes, just coming into flower.
A wild ride, world wide has seen unrest, violence and a complete lack of compassion in many countries. After the pandemic one would imagine we could close the gap again having been through so much together and apart. Communication was our mainstay throughout those years, particularly through lockdown but no… it was obviously not enough for humanity to see that conflict and war are never the way to peace and already too many have died on the Russia- Ukraine front and now Israel-Gaza. Is it too much to hope that sanity can reign or alongside our endangered planet and many species of insect, bird and animal are we on the fast track to extinction?
There are theories
intrigues
that can take us away
from the
glow of dawn
failing light
at the dusk of day
We become untethered
from the natural purpose
to raise children
honour the elders
to live a simpler life
instead, we fall
simplicity forgotten
into the morass
of war and strife
It all began
with a new god rising
who teaches wealth
as the only aim
forgetting
without nature’s canopy
…we’re all out of the game
An opportunity has arisen
to slow the pace
remember the aim
respect our planet
above all else
or we
(as nature shows us)
face extinction
and then
…we’re out of the game
I can only take solace from our wild acres as birds return to nest or to forage for food in the fields and ponds…
Winter, came less than silently on wild winds and shifting light.
Bleak and dark it descended… a blanket of hibernation instincts.
With harvest finished the very last of the late-ripening tomatoes perfume the kitchen with their juicy roasting in garlic oil and herbs… yes, this late! What a windfall this year!
Despite the freeze, spring onions, leeks, garlic, lettuce and cabbages are breaking ground in the slightly warmer environment in the greenhouse… alpine strawberries have begun to flower and there is, for me, a sense of the sap already rising in the elder, willow, rowan and hawthorn.
Hazelnut catkins hang in pale green offerings to the rare sunlit moments of post Winter Solstice days… the coldest are yet to come but as days begin to lengthen, slowly the darkness of deep winter lifts marginally and bright spears of green can be seen under the trees in the grove of Sycamore, Elder and Blackwood and bluebells prepare to emerge through leaf litter and mossy soil.
Through the forests wildflowers are already blooming and shiny purple, puffball fungi are a splash of colour in the dark… their smaller companions, pale beside them yet no less deadly.
Another year moves on…
We all have dark phases
times in our lives
naturally occurring periods
in any life cycle
when we fail to understand
that endings are precursors
to new beginnings
When our life rhythms
move us into and through
these dark phases
we can be ignorant
of what is actually happening
except of course with the benefit of hindsight
and that it is in actuality
a time of mystery, wisdom, and healing power
Meanwhile, at Beyond the Gate Studio, inside where it’s snug and warm, creativity is alive and well after another sort through and clean out of old ‘stuff’. Who knows how it all accumulates because I’m not really a hoarder but lovely paper, pens, inks and paints seem to ‘breed’ as if with a will of their own 😊 (yes, who did bring those extra packs of Posca pens home?) …it’s a mystery 🤭Far less messy than previously… it adds to my wellbeing to have a reasonably tidy but not sterile space to work…
Between writing, painting and beginning the journey into spring planting, the world is looking grim and this affects my mood extraordinarily. Political news, climate change, housing shortages, interest rates and rising living costs are becoming a nightmare for so many… each day I say a quiet thank you to our life at the farm, where basic needs are met with fresh vegetables and eggs, with a surplus enough to fill freezer and pantry and to give to the local cooperatives for the wonderful meals they prepare for those in need of a winter’s day feed of hot soup or pasta.
As an author-artist, the pinch is certainly felt as the luxury of buying books and artworks ebbs… food on the table, heating and a roof over the head are far more urgent for so many and so I’m all the more grateful for the cosy barn-house.
Tap, tap, tap… can I come in, please…
One of my greatest joys is the daily interaction with wild creatures at our hill top retreat. A flock of purple swamphen arrived a few years ago… I refer to them as the Goblin Tribe, because they pop up everywhere unexpectedly and they come and go as the season dictates, heading down to the ponds during nesting season and up into the fields and garden around the house for the rest of the time.
They are fascinated with our hens, chatting to them in hoarse barks and squawks through the fence and would probably join them for breakfast if I let them in.
This year, since the studio was completed, they have become a fixture and without any encouragement, they’ve decided that I’m pretty safe to be around, too. Every morning, there they are on the deck at the back door or tapping at the window of the studio to say good morning. A rather odd relationship, to say the least but one I relish as much as with the strangely shaped currawong, with her crooked tail and unusually rounded chest, who now accepts a tiny piece of fruit from my hand… I didn’t ask or encourage… she just arrived one day, so I guess there’s a sign somewhere that reads, ‘safe house for the odd and ailing,’ or ‘soft touch here, tap glass for attention.’
Miss Wabbly…
Adding to the collection of waifs and strays is a Swamp Wallaby… fondly known as Ms Wabbly; her huge girth definitely has a wobble to it. She’s shared space with us for a few years now and completely unafraid of our presence as we go about our daily chores, while she happily munches on fungi or wild blackberries with equal relish.
…and so life meanders on through the ever changing landscape of seasons, solstice and beyond… in just a couple of days, we reach Imbolc with visibly lengthening days and the cold hard earth will warm, yielding to up-thrusting life.
Girl with the forest inside…
There’s a girl
with the forest inside her
she walks the veil between
Her eyes, the colour of sky-bright
her hair of autumn leaves
Butterflies dance in her presence
through the groves
of haunted trees
and in the glow of pellucid starlight
her heart is open and free
to fathom the depths of the life-stream
to soul-walk with creatures who abide
All fear is lost in the wonderment
…as she walks with the forest inside
Warm wishes and blessings from my hearth to yours…
Penny
beyondthegatebypenny.etsy.com for all books and art prints.
The wheel turns… summer has been all too short but already, trees are changing colour, elderberry, hawthorn and blackberries are ripening in the hedgerows…
She changes her gown
as the year grows old from russet to amber
…green to gold She’s the lady of the harvest
for all living things in the hedgerows and forests
a rich bounty She brings He changes His cloak
as She changes Her gown they dance at Lammas’ hay wain
‘til in sacrifice He’s cut down yet they dance on and on
as the falling leaves twirl through the mossy glades, twilight
to the pipes sobbing skirl that breaks through the silence
of a darkening year then on toward Mabon
the crisp air becomes clear On they dance toward Samhain
the ancestors awake and the Wild Hunt comes riding
the years’ fallen to take through the veil brightly gleaming
long hair darkly streaming and the hound’s wild belling
cause the forests to shake on and on yet they dance
to Yule’s last long dark day the light becomes stronger
yet Jack Frost’s still at play but on they dance toward Imbolc
as the first lambs are born ever onward to bright Ostara
the sun’s rays become warm then when May blossoms open
their honey perfumes the air step abroad as the sun rises
to make a wreath for your hair for here at the rite of Beltane
their dance flames with bright joy and folk may later harvest
…a girl or a boy On to Litha they dance
sweet berries flavour the wine the sun’s power reaches zenith
and will slowly decline On the breeze, you’ll hear Her singing in the thunder His rumbling mirth when they call us we’ll dance with them In circle spinning
…Death to Rebirth
Circle Dance… is featured in my Silver Threads series, available from beyondthegatebypenny.etsy.com
I do love this time of year when things are so busy on the farm with harvesting and preserving, drying, freezing, etc., but it seems as if summer forgot us, all but for a few days of warm, balmy air.
Although it’s been some years since Lady, as I named the rescue Spotted Harrier, who flew into an open, (not ususally but I was cleaning), glass door… and yet here she is! She recovered well and was released back into the wild from here but as said, after a few years she stopped visiting and I assumed her gone but she returned for a short visit the other day… she looks me straight in the eyes and I feel the affinity I felt when I picked her up, semi conscious on the day of her injury. Look at the intelligence and the directness of her gaze… I’m completely in love, all over again, with this beautiful wild spirit.
Other wild spirits, roam aplenty… this beauty is a loner for some reason but doesn’t appear injured, so perhaps simply ageing. The old, infirm, the rogues and the misfits, seem to find us up here… and being somewhat a loner myself, I relate to the need for the hermitage… in fact I’m tempted to change the name of the farm to just that.
Meanwhile, within the changes in nature and as we move towards the darker half of the year, things are moving along with renovations to our old barn-house (we actually now have a laundry!) and to the wee studio pod that will be my studio very soon…
Lughnasadh is past and a beautiful new moon hung suspended… the grain and hay harvest are in and daily, fresh berries are brought to the table…
In my current wee space in the corner of the dining room, work is afoot for a forthcoming exhibition in early April… commissioned work is flowing in and I’m beginning to feel more grounded and centred after being extraordinarily unwell. Autumn’s early arrival is the source of this creative burst… things come to fruition, the pantry and freezer fill with both wild and cultivated foods… soon hazelnuts and apples, wild blackberries and our own raspberries and strawberries will be made into preserves or syrups, even frozen for wee treats like fruit tarts or mousse, for dessert and smoothies for breakfast.
I’ll get around to posting some recipes here soon, and not only food, rather ink and dye processes and herbals, too. I’m still in the organisational stage of returning to blog writing; with so much else going on, it had to take a back seat… but at least, here I am back in the writing saddle!
Life moves on again as the wheel turns… my latest book, Poetry for Wild Spirits, is “out there”, my non-fiction offering, Wild Spirits is in draft form and two novels in a new series are growing daily… they continue my Silver’s Threads series but will be complete in themselves, simply tying in with some of the characters. Look out for the first in the new series Cloak of Magick around mid year, Song to a Green Moon.
Sing to the green-moon
with joyful intent
Gather pellucid moon drops
…to replenish flowers spent
Revive a failing tree with herbs that heal
Wear Her Cloak of Magicks
all truths to reveal
All ways of Magick
are hid ‘neath Her cloak
Gather waning, green-moon drops
add water and soak
…the dying and the wounded
under Mother Elm’s green boughs
But we warn you
stay clear of woodlands
…with metal tools and plough
Art, as said, is taking on the warm tones of autumn for a new exhibition… Autumn Illuminations a new mixed media series on cotton canvas, using my own inks and dyes, eco-cloth and paper and lovely textured substances layered in between. I’ll post dates for this ehibit soon, should you be in the locale. I’d love to see you there…
Until the next time… walk softly…
Penny at Beyond the Gate Studio
All text, poetry and images are copyright, Penny Reilly, all rights reserved.
Twenty three days into 2023 and sorry, I’ve been absent from blog writing recently, due to a few health issues and other, time consuming things, such as publishing my ninth book, Poetry for Wild Spirits.
I’ll be honest… the last year was tough on several fronts for everyone, so saying goodbye wasn’t hard.
There was a very late start to summer but the rain brought in a huge hay harvest, for which farmers are always grateful but, as you can see, the landscape is already preparing itself for an early autumn. We wake to misty mornings and cool temperatures although it’s only recently, Alban Hefin/Summer Solstice/Litha. Longest day seems to have begun the sudden careening toward autumn, before any significant summer weather.
Wee alpine strawberries are multiplying, wild blackberries are in flower and slowly berries will ripen to give winter fruit, dried and frozen. The first raspberry harvest has been wonderful and as hawthorn, rowan and elderberries begin to ripen early too, same applies, with the apothecary stocked with weather medicines from nature.
In the orchard, apples and pears hang in pairs and multiples, fattening and ripening fast with all the ‘Europeanesque’ weather we’re experiencing. I don’t think I’ve ever known a summer morning, starting at 5 degrees.
Truth be told, I feel right at home with memories upsurging from my UK country childhood, running wild through wet grasses but sadly, our promising cherry crop had too much water and not enough sunshine to ripen them… possum had a ball but I hope they don’t have belly ache from all the unripe cherries. Tiny seedling cherry trees are already setting roots, where Ms Possum, dropped the seeds.
Everywhere glistens with dew droplets and the scent on the air is of soil, much and ozone.
Even hazelnut trees are laden early with their little packages of bon-bon style cases… these will be roasted or ground into a course powder for cake making.
Storm birds returned to stalk amongst the tall grasses and reeds, hunting frogs and bugs, digging their long bills into the sodden soil like spears.
Storm clouds gather daily but often circle around us, giving just a little more rain than the ground can hold but still, with tanks and waterways, ponds and dams full to overflowing, we never complain for this is the life blood of the land.
Slowly but surely, after all the delays through covid lockdown and wet weather, my little studio is taking shape, delightfully. Today, the last coat of oil goes on and we’re waiting for the tiler to return to do the floor. Then I can begin to move in and the electrician, coming back to install the PowerPoints and lighting etcetera, will have to work around me… I’m all done waiting!
Meanwhile, squashed in the corner of the dining room, my work continues for the next collaborative art exhibition in early April… autumn themed, which just happens to be my favourite palette of colour.
It’s wonderful to be able to put to use the eco inks I made from various berries and leaves, this time last year.
As they begin to take shape, I’m finding my stride. Although health issues slowed me down for quite some time, I’m beginning to feel inspired again…
And so… we head at a frighteningly fast pace on the downward slide toward the dark half of the year, barely having lifted our eyes from the last one. In just a couple of weeks it will be Lughnasadh/Lammas but our hay and grain harvest has already been gathered in a little earlier than usual.
Extraordinary sunsets and sunrises… weather patterns are pure insanity and we can’t ignore the facts of climate change, staring us in the face.
What are you doing to help combat this?
Do you think it’s too late and we’re doomed?
What are your visions for future generations or are you someone who says… oh well, I won’t be here in xxx amount of years and so pay it all forward?
I thought to add this as I begin to communicate again in blog form, a year and a day of this land-loving life of mine, about how things can be grown, preserved and how to have a pantry groaning with foods that you love, without necessarily all the pickling, fermenting and bottling, that is often too time consuming for the average household in the daily workforce and who don’t live on an off-grid farm in the wilds of the Victorian highlands. We have the advantage of solar power and perhaps soon, a little wind turbine will be the booster, rather than a generator for winter days to help charge the batteries, so for us, freezing and dehydrating foods are good options unless you really love fermented or pickled foods.
I would like to know how one would live on jars of pickles, relishes and chutney, no matter how yummy they may be, however as I watch trends of the in things unfold, rather than easily grown or readily available bulk foods. No matter where you live, it’s always possible to find a market to buy seconds (aesthetically unpleasing to the fussy eye, due to hail damage etc.) in the way of fruit and vegetables or big bags of grains, bread mixes and so on and turn them into staples for your pantry. Even if you don’t have a garden, it’s possible to beat inflation with bulk buying foods, someone else has grown and perhaps using a verandah or a sunny kitchen bench spot for growing fresh herbs, salad greens and micro sprouts.
All of the plants above will grow for you in pots too, even if you only have a tiny verandah on your apartment… a whole wall of growing things is easy to construct for very little.
Another fun thing to do, is for a group of like-minded souls, to take it in turns to share power costs and food/goods and to spend a kitchen day, processing storables for the pantry.
There are so many ways to make these practical, saving solutions work for you, despite a busy working life…
…and so my thoughts, having strayed in this direction, would love to hear about your dreams, goals and how you are tackling the world at large these days?
What are your dreams for the world and for your family, friends and even those across the oceans in war-torn, drought or flood ridden countries?
Where do you go in your dreams
Are you sure you’re awake
Do you follow your heart
or react for reacting’s sake
Where are you, when you’re dreaming
Is it a peaceful place
Do you travel to lands of beauty
to a sacred, greening space
How do you feel in the morning
are you truly here
or are you really still dreaming
’til small whispers of truth appear
Do you dream of a journey
Do you know where to
Is it long and exciting
In the dream are you still, you
Does it feel like a memory
written deep in your cells
to an island of apples
and a deep, icy well
Who travels with you
or are you alone
Do you feel you are lost
or are you travelling home…
…with warm wishes and blessings from Beyond the Gate Studio
Penny
Poetry for Wild Spirits can be purchased from the author by travelling to…
Recent floods and freak, storm weather has made us all the more aware of the changing climate. With all but a few scattered days of sunshine, spring has been a myth… although that said and despite zero degrees, nature is taking care of business; she operates by the length of daylight rather than the staged calendar cycles imposed on humanity.
Wild hedgerows are full of nesting birds… crabapple blossom has been and gone but will possibly be scant in fruit as it was too cold for the bees to be out.
Elderflower are just budding now… late for this area but the harvest will eventually be huge, now a few sunny days have arrived.
Finally… apple, pear, cherry and plum are in blossom and wild herbs are making an appearance again. Daffodil, narcissus and now bluebells and harebells are everywhere and the bees are finally out and about.
Wild ducks are chaparoning their wee flocks to ponds and dams, wandering along the trenches we dug to allow the flow of water away from our barn-house… a lone swamp hen trundles along behind… he’s elderly and not eligible for another mate the young, constantly chase him off now.
We were honoured by the visit of a pair of native black ducks… usually only the male drops in, once or twice a year but htis year he has brought his mate.
Life beyond the gate has been misted in and mystical… like an overlay of another time and space… sounds muted… nothing but the drip, drip of water from trees and the haunting call of a brush cuckoo.
It is heard in the sigh of whispering trees …in the notes of the calling sent on a breeze Deep within you can hear A magickal song Deep within, through the doorway where there’s no right nor wrong If you’re quiet …truly listen hear the notes swell and dip through the rush of the ocean or the rain as it drips from each branch that bends with the weight of rain or in the soft scent of evening that dulls sharpened pain Along the Crooked Pathway turning left and then right you’ll hear soft singing to the moonrise at night Deeper still and you’ll hear music at the gateway in the West from the land of all dreaming where you complete your life’s quest and then onward, listen …you’ll find your own thread in a single note that sparkles removing the dread for nothing is dying only reaching its peak In the depths… in Her darkness …are the symphonies you seek
Activities begin to pick up in both farm life and in the studio… my ninth book, Poetry for Wild Spirits, was published last month and has been selling well and so will become the accompanying volume to Wild Spirits the work in progress currently… snippets of this will be posted here in my blog soon.
Alongside the farm/garden work and writing are commissioned art works that came out of the blue to stimulate my creativity, no end… three small watercolour pieces and my biggest work yet… a mixed media of huge dimension, that I honestly am quite nervous about starting, so I’ll sit awhile with the blank canvas and the theme requested and then we’ll see what is visualised and hopefully, manifested.
All is a work in progress… nature, art, writing, photography, publishing… all keep me busy and prosperous on one level or another… all is in balance at Beyond the Gtae Farm and Studio…
Blessings… Penny
Poetry for Wild Spirits and Penny’s 8 other books are available, directly through her and on Amazon for the Epub/kindle edition. Wholesale enquiries can be made to Ingram Publishing.
All text, poetry and art/photography is copyright the author, Penny Reilly.
The ocean tides, whittle away at the shoreline as we wear away our lives, often in needless struggles for understanding.
As children, we fight to maintain our identity until parental expectation, educational institutions and peer pressures, whittle away at our personality, character and psyche until we’re swamped, drowning, in other’s expectations of how they perceive we should be.
Letting go of guilt-induced reactions to how others respond to our internal change, can be like running a marathon… but when does the adult self, stop apologising for who they are, despite the constant inner and outer critique.
This is the pivotal moment, when we can realise, we are in fact, our inner parent or teacher, continuing to hear and be instructed by the echo of their physical counterparts instead of learning to simply be ourselves.
The thing is… nature doesn’t judge how we behave, how we express ourselves or criticise who we intrinsically are, with or without societies trappings, just as a daisy doesn’t wish to be a rose.
Nature doesn’t judge the leaves falling, leaving branches bare or new leaves budding, on near-naked limbs.
Life in all its ages and stages is a precious gift so why waste it, desiring to be something we were not designed to be?
Life, when delved into, without agenda is a rich, fulfilling and never to be repeated, journey… grasp it… dive in…
Hollowing out emptying seeking the purpose of life in simply being Giving up the fight for more allows unhindered flow Just living Simply being with no place left to go Past present future merges the well of life upsurges the wheel spins on and round All places all seasons emerge as sacred ground
Winter arrived with a boom… days of autumn sunshine and colour one day and the white out of snow from out of nowhere… brrrr, -3°.
Still… winter brings introspection and Yule, deep into the cold and dark days… brings hope because we know, underground movement will be afoot… green shoots unfurling to break through the icy crust. When I close my eyes, I imagine them slumbering, waiting and with animism, perhaps anticipating, how the light will feel on their green sprouts… sunlight, pulling on them, tugging them to reach up to the light after the darkness beneath.
I do love to connect in this way to the earth and all things by knowing I am a part of it all as it is all a part of me… all of me…
Life is a moment and in that moment, all moments exist. Life can appear fleeting or be forever in full consciousness. There is no separation between who we once were in the scheme of things, are now or will be “one day”, for all is now.
Complex thoughts, and yet not, unless one thinks in straight lines, past, present, future rather than in circles, and cycles of ascension and descension… expansion and contraction. There again, perhaps that is the challenge, overthinking. Does nature think, “I’m a daisy; I wanted to be a rose.” Does an amber-coloured leaf in autumn, wish to be green again?
One droplet of water, part of a sea, a lake a pond?
Observing nature, we see there are few straight lines, except those we create. Nothing is linear. Droplets of water constantly change shape to adapt and, are a part of a greater body, ocean or small pond. If we understand everything is energy in constant motion, where there is a void space, something always rushes to fill it and, there is no judgment in the process.
When we become aware, strength lies in the allowance of emptiness and in not filling empty spaces. In this knowing, we can choose substance to fill the void, and in fact always do, even by not choosing. Waiting, empty, gives us clarity to know what we truly desire. I speak not of “having” for the sake of it …because it’s the most recent fad or gadget, but more the awareness, “being in emptiness” can bring. It has its own taste, smell, sound, sensation and there is nothing to fear there, except the proverbial, fear itself.
My waking and sleeping moments, fill with the rhythm and scent of nature’s cycles rather than the tick-tock of the business world. Although that said, I run my own studio… one has to live, but the key is to find the ultimate balance between the perceived mundane and the “spiritual life” …and there we have it – everything is spirit/energy, and therefore, spiritual.
Our natural state of being is magick Moving between full, exhilarant joy and oft, comedy tragic Spaces between filled with liquid notes sublime in cycles spinning adhering to the rhyme Diaphonous, silken threads on the loom of time fading in and out annual, biannual, diurnal We are but a blip in life eternal
Whether at work to earn our living, pottering in the garden or soaking in a bath, changing a nappy or holding someone’s hair back as they vomit… whether it’s a perceived, inanimate object or a living, breathing tree, all is energy and thus spirit/spiritual.
All energy is in motion constantly, in waves and pulses, just as our body is in flow and flux, birth to death, with each waxing and waning moon. We are ultimately 78% fluid, and our body is at the mercy of those internal and exterior tides unless we can be observant, present in awareness as those tides turn. Thus, we can see ourselves not as helpless puppets, but empowered by those very tides, toward the shores of creative consciousness
If we can reconnect to nature’s cycles, movements, brief pauses, breath held and let go… a beating heart, a pulse within myriad pulses, we simply become. Every cell becomes luminous with cell-wisdom-memory of everything experienced, and in the remembering, remembers Source…
Sow the seeds Weave the web in time Weave sow Grow wisdom knowledge of the life stream and the soul spark of intelligence …breathe All one Awen
It’s been longer than I expected to post but it’s strange times that govern the planet recently!
Winter makes progress… all our senses are involved… a welcomed change in government and a feeling of relief imbues every social media post with hope, even joy.
Here at the farm, we begin our journey inward… days are shortening as we head towards Yule… dark by 5.00 pm and not light until after 7.00 am. Hearth fires are lit… candles for the ancestors… small gatherings with hot soup and crusty bread around a bonfire or fire pit… we begin to mellow into the coming cold.
Hollowing out emptying seeking the purpose of life in simply being Giving up the fight for more allows unhindered flow Just living Simply being with no place left to go Past present future merges the well of life upsurges the wheel spins on and round All places all seasons emerge as sacred ground
In the studio… a tight fit in the corner of the dining room, while waiting for the building materials to arrive… not long now before I have a grown-up artist’s space and eventually a little gallery too. I say grown-up but really, I feel like a wee kidding waiting for Yule to arrive.
Work continues though, in both farm greenhouse and studio… kasundi is made from surplus tomatoes… filling the house with spicy aromas… alongside the aforementioned soup of curried parsnip and pear 🍐
Nothing much goes to waste and what scraps are left, the worms, chookhens and Pip the terrier will finish off.
In the studio, I’m finishing off several ink and watercolour pieces… I discovered gel pens too… such fun in earthy tones or stark white… and metallics in silver, copper, bronze and gold… also invested in a few distress sprays… a work in progress!
Next will be more ink making experimentation, trying out new plant matter from local herbs and playing with eco printing, after a lovely workshop a month or so, ago.
All in all, quiet times, in terms of season and knuckling down with work… the book needs attention too but I’ve been distracted by world events…
I’ll settle soon as the shortest, darkest day approaches…
Life is awareness Layers of being Birth to death seeing renewal of life Excepting all things pass some wide-eyed on sweet green grass effortlessly fearlessly the last breath’s hiss releasing …we can learn from this
Warm wishes and blessings from Beyond the Gate… Awen /|\
As we move through autumn and into winter, the robins arrive to foretell imminent snow. Freezing winds strip you to the bone no matter the layers but there’s still plenty of work to do in the garden and greenhouse… gathering in.
Two art shows have meant busy-busy times; one is still underway, so I feel safe to leave my studio work for a little while to finish off the harvest and to plant anew for winter – spring, crops.
Alpine Strawberries are a gift that keep on giving… cabbages, leeks, beetroot, lettuce and onion are developing rapidly now, followed by winter veg… brassicas and silverbeet, more beans have broken ground.
Post Samhain is a rather wistful time… four years ago our daughter passed away in her sleep… no illness, no warning and so the month of May, filled with family birthdays, including hers and my own, are overshadowed by grief and loss.
It’s easy to say that life goes on… and it does but we are all forever changed… a beautiful piece of us is gone.
Yule… Feast of Fire, flame and renewal… again the wheel turns and we gather for longest night… light will return, slowly, barely noticeably but underground, life stirs unseen…
I am the essence that lives, all unseen I am found in all things the world renews, clear and clean I am the one you hear under Lady Moon’s light as my hounds run and bay at the gathering night Yule approaches and my time is done but soon a new battle will be fought and won as the Oak King I’ll come my vows to renew while the veil is thin and the Fae wander through I hear all your fears wipe your tears dry for you so gather with me at the first Feast of Fire Light promises to return and the flames leap higher come to me in the dance of the passing year follow the sound of my horn …there is nothing to fear
…to be continued…
Blessings from Beyond the Gate Farm and Studio… Penny
Samhain is past but the energy lingers… it’s cold and very damp now… autumn leaves fall to become a luscious mat, allowing fungi spoors to multiply and also food for worms to create more, rich loamy, soil.
Amanita muscaria, fly agaric toadstool… the faeries are active…
Although extremely toxic, there are local creatures who nibble on these colourful fly agaric, (Amanita muscaria), perhaps the toxins in tiny amounts, are beneficial for them… I noticed the resident Wallaby, nibbling on the very edge of one while holding a pawful of other varieties that it loves to stuff its chops with.
Meanwhile, nature slows down… harvest time may still be busy and there’s never really a time of year when we have nothing to do but it’s as if our consciousness begins to slow in sync with the season. We are as always active but we become more mellow in our approach to life… honouring the land and the nature of our existance.
Thoughts of a warm, glowing hearth fire, become reality, daily… mist-enshrouded mornings are the norm and tiny birds, visiting for the autumn/winter seasons are like leaves blowing across the fields.
Robins are visiting now… (my photo wouldn’t upload, sadly), a precursor to frost and snow… their cheerful, full-throated song is as bright as their darting colour… they have long been known as messengers from the otherworld as the veil thins and the gates beyond, open.
It’s a particularly busy time for us as we continue to build and develop our home… a laundry, an extra bedroom and bathroom and a studio pod for me, to be followed by another for a wee gallery. Eventually, there’ll be a little shop to sell my organic inks and paint pigments… farm surplus, such as eggs but also candles, herbal tinctures and teas etc. It’s never say never, even as we age!
…and so the wheel turns on… food is grown, processed and preserved for winter… art is produced… words fly onto paper and a winter hush falls across the land…
Warm wishes and blessings… Awen… Penny
You can find out more about me, my lifestyle and work at…
Penny Reilly Artist Beyond the Gate 
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