The big, beautiful poem of the year
Icy lakes, May Day hares, the scent of hay mowing, a Samhain fire...
Hello!
I am sorry to say that there is no big beautiful December poem….because instead I have made a Big Beautiful Poem of the Year! All year long you have been leaving me your little snippets of weekly noticings - like the tiny little glimpses through different winter windows you will read about in a minute - and each month I have woven them into a monthly poem. They are really worth revisiting if you have a little time and are the nostalgic sort. There was none for January but here are the rest: February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November.
As soon as the thought occurred to make one big poem of the year I couldn’t resist it, and it has been so lovely to put together, a special New Years gift from me to you. At first I said to myself I would choose just three lines for each month, then I thought ‘it has to be four’, then five, and finally I managed to stop myself at six. You are all poets, and choosing just six for each month was almost impossible.
The poem made me long for each month, and feel excited about the year ahead, and I hope it does the same for you. Without further ado, here is:
The Big Beautiful Poem of the Year
January
In the dusk, catching the glimpsed frames of people’s lives through their windows - twinkling lights still up, a row of lit candles, someone with the the tv on, someone clearing the dining table
An icy new years day swim at Clevedon marine lake, followed by chattering teeth and hot chocolate in the car
Snow in the forecast, a hearty vegetable stew
The low sun in the afternoon hours turning my kitchen to gold
Finding glassy, unbroken puddles and crunching them
The days ever so slightly stretching out - closing the curtains later and seeing the dusk after work rather than the dark
February
The first lamb born in the field behind my cottage
The beautiful ploughed lines in the land in the South Downs
A murmuration half hidden in the mist
Hellebores delicately blooming in shady spots
Pancakes with homemade rhubarb compote
Morning coffee outside for the first time this year, wrapped in a blanket and with a view of a still snow covered front yard
March
The bunny ear covers have been pushed off the magnolia flowers
Seasonal aisles at the market changed from the red and pink hearts of February to the green shamrocks and Guinness of March
The yearly miracle that is our pink cherry tree beginning to unfold
Frogspawn in the pond!!
Still in jigsaw mode
Little pops of yellow on my walk that promise the spring and valiantly battle with the gusty winds and seemingly ceaseless rain
April
An Easter egg hunt in the garden with my 3 year old granddaughter, eggs falling out of her tiny basket, waiting in the grass to be found again
The sandmartins have returned!
Primary colours garden - red tulips, yellow daffodils, bluebells and everything else green as green
Blooming, voluminous, dark cumulus
The apple branches I cut to make our Easter tree quietly putting out bright green leaves and blossom in the jug
Sleeping with my bedside window wide open through the night and waking to birdsong, and a woodpecker
May
A hare on May Day morning
The blossoms covering the crab apple trees and the fallen petals lining the ground
No coat required!
My annual lilac bath: an entire tub filled with warm water and lilac blossoms to soak in
Spending a fortune on basket and bedding plants
Bluebells woods, wisteria walks and cow parsley hedgerows. Making hawthorn brandy and lighting the first firepit of the season
June
Dragonflies skirting over the ponds
Peering inside the foxgloves - dappled fairy beauties
Some sun. Appreciating the deep green canopy of tree shade in contrast
Exam week for the 17 year old: tension, arguing with her sister and exhaustion
Lime blossom scent and Euros preparations all over Berlin
New potatoes and asparagus for dinner
July
Glorious sun and just enough cooling breeze canvassing in Islington North. Everyone was out to vote
The garden has offered gooseberries with pink blushes and red sorrel leaves for salads
Small town Independence Day celebrations - morning parade with marching bands and community pancake breakfast at the firehall, fireworks over the lake at dusk
Up early and struck by how quiet it is in the garden. Only the woodpigeon still cooing. I miss the dawn chorus but the silence has its own charm
A lovely local festival with great music, dancing, face painting and dodging of showers
The scent of dry fields after hay mowing
August
Golden fields peppered with massive circular bales and cool, leafy hollow-ways
Supermarkets filled with kids on summer vacation asking their moms for jello and ice cream
The garden's gone wild - quince burgeoning, apples ripened and dropping daily, second flush on the early roses and weeds. So many weeds
More swifts than I've ever seen in one place before, all wheeling and shrieking. I can only think that means they are gathering to leave
Days on the beach looking in rock pools and being buffeted by the wind
A red sunrise and misty mornings, trying to hold on to summer
September
Condensation on the car windows before work; summer dresses with boots and cardigans
Shiny year 7 students carrying overpacked rucksacks on their backs like turtles
Working in the barn, cutting wood because the fire will need to be lit in a few weeks
Making plum and damson jam
Putting out a basket of 'free apples - help yourself' from the windfalls that are littering the lawn
The return of the robin
October
Dipping a toasted cheese sandwich in to hot soup
Nature table season - yellow heart shaped poplar leaves, teeny dark chocolate brown alder cones, the last of the peace roses
Candlelit breakfasts. Need I say more?
Skies scowling and the river threatening to burst
The northern lights again from London, the sky blushing in shades of magenta and pomegranate, visible to the eye, from my own garden
More than 100 grey seals hauled out on the beach in a Cornish cove
November
Noticing how different leaves fall in their own way - willow more straight down, beech more twirly
A Samhain fire in the garden. The clouds clearing, revealing lots of stars and Jupiter shining so brightly in the sky
Ivy flowers buzzing with insects
A woodland both gilded by autumn and crowned with snow
Floods cutting the town in half. School closure
Thanksgiving food: pumpkin pie, homemade cranberry sauce, casseroles
December
A large tree that came down in storm Darragh has been decorated for Christmas with giant golden baubles and tinsel
Moon gazing from the bath for a few lucky evenings this week
Breakfast by treelight. Thoughts of hibernation and planning a midwinter feast
A cold winter walk in the bright sunshine where we saw 50+ redwings picking around in a field, a few meadow pippets "pipping" away and a lone stonechat. A nice cup of tea and mince pie to warm up afterwards
Most of our dog walks are completed in dark now, but one morning last week we were out a little late and treated to a glorious winter sunrise. Everything it touched glowed and reflected its warmth
Making beautiful and delicious candied orange slices dipped in chocolate
And that’s our year, all wrapped up!
Thank you for your company this year, for being such a wonderful and supportive community to me and to each other. And for sharing these snippets and glimpses of your lives with such beauty, poetry and humour. I wish you all a Happy New Year and a wonderful year ahead.
Shall we begin it all again on Friday…?
Love,
Lia x
I’ve had a truly awful year of heartbreak and devastation. This beautiful poem has reminded me that the world kept turning and the world will keep turning and maybe next year all these things will bring me joy again. Happy new year Lia and thank you.
Oh Lia - thank you so much for this wonderful reminder of all the moments of beauty, inspiration and joy that have made up our communal year. For me 2024 was challenging at times, sometimes incredibly difficult with treatment effects, but …..it was also all these things and so much more. Happy New year dear Lia and friends in this lovely group - much love xxx