Welcome to Harvest Moon, a place where the creatures and landscapes of my imagination take form and meet the world. Nestled in beneath the wild craggy tors of Dartmoor inspiration comes on chilly winds from moonlit landscapes of other realms which share this rugged, ancient land of gorse and granite. Living here I sometimes feel on a bridge between worlds and ages as the land speaks from spluttering streams and wind-beaten tors, telling stories of folk and beast, but only in snatches before the endings are whipped away down the valley with the broad river and out to sea. So here I will share these stories and characters and they can dwell in your own imagination, continuing their stories with infinite outcomes. This is how they live, enjoy them!

Monday, 1 October 2012

new life....

...and so the chilly autumn draws in around us, the last warm embers of the summer sun fading behind morning mist and eddies of golden leaves. Such a beautiful season, autumn brings out the poet in all of us, and it is a time I always welcome and cherish. This year though I have polar feelings of sadness and excitement, making this autumn feel very different.

The sadness comes from mourning the passing of summer, and with it my perennial hopes of long, hot, hazy days drifting into one another for weeks on end....the summers of my childhood that seem to have left me waiting at the window, my breath fogging the inside as rain drops race down the outside. I'm beginning to feel I am waiting in vane. It is a strange feeling seeing the world roll towards that darker time of winter, rolling slowly and inevitably into the cold.

But then excitement comes as I remember the wonders of winter....coral red skies silhouetting tree skeltons; morning frosts edging fallen leaves in silver; and the occasionaly blanket of snow, telling a tale of night time in the criss-crossed tracks of rabbits, deer, foxes and who knows who else....

....There is though a more bubbling excitement which now permeates my days and nights....this comes from the paradox of new life growing, ready to emerge after samhain as the world goes to sleep and the sun dies again....

As I sit and write, this new life wriggles in my belly as if it knows that we're talking about it. The movements are so big now, in it's 32nd week of being, that I think I may be jiggled off my chair! We call it 'Little Bean', and like a bean it is a bundle of life and energy waiting to sprout. It feels like it can't wait, and neither can I....but we'll both have to be patient, because we have 8 weeks to go before we meet face to face. For now I must cherish every moment of carrying my Little Bean, because other mothers keep telling me that once they sprout, they grow very, very fast!

I feel that as Little Bean grows, so does my heart, bigger and stronger and fuller, growing to meet the wonderful challenge of motherhood. What a door we have opened, what an adventure lies behind it!