The full moon had over shot its target again for another year at newgrange, leaving little to peer at in the sky for this year's winter solstice. Both love and despair could be felt in equal parts as you mingled with faces of people that for most part you hadn't seen for the last year. The stresses of the past seemed a distant concern for friends and acquaintances who genuinely greeted one another with fond smiles and warm embraces. Its certainly not for everyone, perhaps if you are shy of crowds or cameras, check points, queues, stewards in yellow coats or TV, then I don't think its for you. But on the other hand, if you don't see these things, then the human embrace and excitement for yet another year is palpable. 

After stuffing my pockets with apples and jaffa cakes, then donning my yellow reflective jacket and turning my flashing red and white lights on, I was off to Brú na Bóinne on my bicycle. I could already see the commotion of cars and vans jostling for favoured position directly in front of the tombs. As I crossed the river the lights of the visitor centre lit up my path, the reflection of silver and white cutlery caught my eye through the massive windows where breakfast was being set for the visitors to come. But I was on a mission and with breakfast in my pocket, only a few hills lay between my legs and my stomach. The glow from the red sticks in the hands of men in yellow jackets, beside the car with blue flashing lights meant I was there, nervous, until I remembered that I had worn the correct attire for the event. I clung to the handle bars, waiting to be waved through. People in duller attire, not realising the dress code, were made queue, but I was on a mission to find a quieter place and sit with my breakfast on a hill top and say good bye to what was a remarkable year. 

A hare circled my path with a confused look, he left the building, while the 40 crows gathered on an old ash tree to watch the event unfold. 20 whooper swans fed in the barley fields below me. Then the gates opened and the people's smiles were allowed enter for another new year.

After returning home I saw the blackbird sit motionless in the crab apple tree using only enough energy to breath. Sharing blackberries together from last summer, mine are still tasty on toast bread while he contends with red white thorn seeds and sloes. The Ravens barking at each other, all jostling for position to become the one who nests on the hill for the New Year. Work goes on in equal proportions of love and despair, a new season beginning, lots to look forward to and plenty to happily forget.          

 

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