A couple of weeks ago, I took my three-year old grandson to the park, and on the way back we crossed a small stream. So, of course we stopped to play Pooh Sticks. You know the game – drop a stick over one side of the bridge, dash to the other side before the stick floats through. Sometimes the stick appeared very quickly, and sometimes it took a little longer. Once we thought we’d lost the stick altogether, but we waited, and at last it broke free of the brambles or whatever had entangled it, and off it drifted down the stream.
I shared this picture with my church on Sunday morning; how sometimes our lives get caught up, just like that stick got caught up under the bridge, and we must shake off what has grabbed hold of us; or maybe we just need a ‘whoosh’ of the Holy Spirit to set us free. It got me thinking a bit more. There we are, sailing along that river we call life. Most of the time it seems, life just takes us, and we bob along quite happily with the current. Sometimes we dance crazily along on the crest of little waves, other times we drift aimlessly, meandering round life’s bends as if we have all the time in the world. Often (or so I’ve found) we get caught up on things out to get us, or rubbish that other people throw into our lives, just like the little stick entangled by brambles and creepers. When we realise this, we need to make a conscious effort to push on through, or ask God to help us. As we sail on down this river we call life, there are also currents to negotiate, and rocks to avoid, where the best we can do is just stay afloat. But we are always moving onward, we can never go back, only move on. And as I travel on this river we call life, I am very glad I don’t have to do it on my own. I am very glad I have my friends and family around me, and I am very glad I have God, who is ever-present, and willing to help as soon as I ask.
In my experience, plants seldom flower exactly when they are supposed to. But this year, my Christmas Flowering Cactus is spot on.
The first stop on our Caribbean cruise was Castries, the capital city of St Lucia, on the northern part of the island. Once off the ship, it was easy to get a minibus ride to see some of the sights. St Lucia is of volcanic origin, so is very mountainous. It is 27 miles long by 14 miles wide (for those familiar with England, it is a little larger than the Isle of Wight), and the highest point is Mount Gimie at about 3145 feet. St Lucia is thought to have been named after St Lucy of Syracuse, when French sailors were ship-wrecked there on her feast day, so it is the only country in the world to be named after a woman! Historically it was fought over by the French and British, changing hands many times, until 1814 when it was finally taken by the British, and it remains a member of the Commonwealth. It is mainly an agricultural island, and although it used to produce sugar-cane, the plantations now mostly produce bananas. Tourism, especially visits by cruise ships, are now an important part of the economy of St Lucia.
We drove along narrow roads snaking upwards round hairpin bends. Dense undergrowth covered the mountainsides. Houses perched precariously on steep slopes, one side often propped up on stilts to form a level dwelling. We stopped at a banana plantation, and saw bananas in various stages of growth, from tiny newly forming bananas, to fully grown bananas swathed in blue covers for protection. Before returning to Castries, we stopped to look down on Marigot Bay, a sheltered bay on the western coast, where steep green forested slopes met golden sand and the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea.
I’m back! I have just spent a lovely fortnight, cruising around the Caribbean, before heading back across the Atlantic via The Azores, to Southampton. The nearer home we got, the cooler the weather, and now I’ve been back a few days, the cold, damp English spring is getting me down. The vegetation and flowers of St Lucia, St Kitts and Antigua were bright and beautiful, so here are a few flower pictures from St Kitts to brighten my day, and hopefully yours too. I’ve looked them up, but I’m not quite sure what some are, can anyone help me?
Oriental Trumpet Lily
The snow is all gone, the temperature has risen, and all the signs are pointing to spring close on the horizon. So hopefully that’s the last of the snowy pictures till next winter. I leave you instead with pictures of my hellebores. I have three varieties of hellebore in my garden. The flowers of Candy Love are pale pink and white, with a blush of pink veining on the outside of the petals; Pirouette flowers are a dusky pink, with darker pink veining; while my favourite is I think, Black Diamond, with striking, almost black flowers and deep red foliage. Last week they were all laden with snow, bowed down to the icy earth, so low I thought they’d never recover (see my previous post). Now the snow is gone and their cold blanket has melted away, my hellebores are standing up again. Their stems have straightened, and their heads are held high. Black Diamond stands the tallest, but Candy Love and Pirouette on their shorter stems arch gracefully. And with the promise of spring just around the corner, my spirits too have lifted.
Yesterday it snowed some more, but once again not as much as was forecast. It was still very cold, -3C, and if it still wasn’t ‘deep and crisp and even’, the earth was certainly ‘hard as iron, and water like a stone’. I defrosted the bird bath every time I had a hot drink, and the birds were very grateful. Mr and Mrs Blackbird took it in turns, and kept coming back for more. A pair of magpies stopped by, and a small flock of four starlings bickered and chattered as they filled their beaks. Some great-tits, blue-tits and long-tailed-tailed-tits flicked around from bush to bush and tree to tree, along with a tiny wren, but they didn’t join the drink queue. Most of the birds sped off as soon as they saw me with my camera, but Mr and Mrs Blackbird posed beautifully. The birds were obviously finding enough to eat, as they were only interested in the water, and largely ignored the scraps I put out. The dog happily finished those bits off later!
It snowed last night, not deep or crisp or even, but definitely snow, sprinkled across the garden like icing sugar. Although it was bright and sunny this morning it snowed some more, soft fat flakes drifting and dropping aimlessly. This afternoon it grew colder, and the snow fell like tiny hard crystals whirling madly in a biting, easterly wind. Some of the longer spikes of grass are still standing tall, but most of the lawn and flowerbeds are covered with a thin lacy blanket of snow. A few small, half-open daffodil buds, have been stopped in their tracks, as winter has returned with a vengeance. Tiny pendulous snowdrops stand straight, while pink and white hellebore flower-heads are heavily laden, bowing down to almost touch the icy cold earth. I’ve defrosted the bird bath three times today, and have been rewarded with the sight of blackbirds and pigeons grabbing a quick drink, and I spotted a wren on the trellis, and a squirrel high up in the oak tree. Despite the bitter cold, there is still life in my garden. We may not have had the snow we were expecting, but there are a few days yet of snow and below zero temperatures forecast, so who knows…..