I awoke this morning to the dance of the snowflakes. Small, hard, white crystals of snow fluttered down into my sleepy, Sunday morning world, reminding me of the month of snow and ice we experienced in the final month of last year. December made us wonder what on earth the rest of the winter had in store for us, but in early January the weather turned and the longed-for thaw came. Early spring bulbs began to appear all over the garden, even the tubs of tulips looked promising, the yellow shoots of forsythia on the fence started to show their bright colour and the sun shone out of an almost balmy atmosphere.
Then this! Winter again, returning like it usually does to destroy our thoughts of an early spring! A salutory reminder that, in reality, it is only February. The weather has been leading us a dance.
It made me reflect that so much of our imagery and indeed our lives have to do with rhythm. We are attuned to the rhythm of the seasons. Our lives are punctuated by music and by rhythm. Our moments of joy have us humming merrily or breaking out into joyful song. Our moments of tragedy bring out more music in a minor key, to mesh with our mood.
I ponder on a phrase that has popped into my mind - the waltz of the flowers. Long ago, as a child living in London, my mother used to take us children to the ballet! I was addicted to my ballet classes as a child and dreamed of one day becoming a prima ballerina. Fanning the embers of this dream were the regular visits to Covent Garden where I watched, spellbound, as Margot Fonteyn and her contemporaries moved across the stage, captivating me with their grace and elegance. The Nutcracker Suite, with its series of dreamlike dances, included The Waltz of the Flowers - a romantic name for an enchanting dance I have never forgotten.
It takes two to Tango! Another of those phrases we use unthinkingly, proving again how far the idea of dance is woven into our thoughts. We can't survive alone - we need a partner, a friend, others to share life with. A while ago, living in a new home in an unfamiliar area of the country, we started ballroom dancing lessons as a way of getting to know some new people. It turned out to be magic. Tango, quickstep, waltz, cha-cha- cha - we tried them all and quickly became jack-of-all-dance and master of none! We still struggle to find our way round the dance floor doing any of these dances, but we had such fun trying! Richard Gere's performance in the film 'Shall we Dance?' fired our imaginations but we never reached the dizzy heights of his achievements.
Still, life has its rhythms and so do the seasons. Winter has had a little dance and then spring. Now it is the turn of the snowflakes again. On a more serious note, in Queensland in Australia, on the other side of the world, the rivers have overflowed in a horrifying, nightmare dance, causing misery and heartache. In the south of that same continent friends write that they are waiting to see which way the winds will blow and whether they will fan into life the terrifying dance of bush fire that is progressing across their locality. What next? The dance goes on and we humans must do the best we can.
Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow... life falls into a pattern of reflection and activity, like the diligently memorised pattern for the Quickstep. One without the other would leave us the poorer. Too much of one or the other will spoil the dance. This Sunday is a time for reflection, before the activity of the week is once more upon us. The snow is just another way of slowing us down. Spring will soon be here and the sleep of winter will be over for another year.
Then this! Winter again, returning like it usually does to destroy our thoughts of an early spring! A salutory reminder that, in reality, it is only February. The weather has been leading us a dance.
It made me reflect that so much of our imagery and indeed our lives have to do with rhythm. We are attuned to the rhythm of the seasons. Our lives are punctuated by music and by rhythm. Our moments of joy have us humming merrily or breaking out into joyful song. Our moments of tragedy bring out more music in a minor key, to mesh with our mood.
I ponder on a phrase that has popped into my mind - the waltz of the flowers. Long ago, as a child living in London, my mother used to take us children to the ballet! I was addicted to my ballet classes as a child and dreamed of one day becoming a prima ballerina. Fanning the embers of this dream were the regular visits to Covent Garden where I watched, spellbound, as Margot Fonteyn and her contemporaries moved across the stage, captivating me with their grace and elegance. The Nutcracker Suite, with its series of dreamlike dances, included The Waltz of the Flowers - a romantic name for an enchanting dance I have never forgotten.
It takes two to Tango! Another of those phrases we use unthinkingly, proving again how far the idea of dance is woven into our thoughts. We can't survive alone - we need a partner, a friend, others to share life with. A while ago, living in a new home in an unfamiliar area of the country, we started ballroom dancing lessons as a way of getting to know some new people. It turned out to be magic. Tango, quickstep, waltz, cha-cha- cha - we tried them all and quickly became jack-of-all-dance and master of none! We still struggle to find our way round the dance floor doing any of these dances, but we had such fun trying! Richard Gere's performance in the film 'Shall we Dance?' fired our imaginations but we never reached the dizzy heights of his achievements.
Still, life has its rhythms and so do the seasons. Winter has had a little dance and then spring. Now it is the turn of the snowflakes again. On a more serious note, in Queensland in Australia, on the other side of the world, the rivers have overflowed in a horrifying, nightmare dance, causing misery and heartache. In the south of that same continent friends write that they are waiting to see which way the winds will blow and whether they will fan into life the terrifying dance of bush fire that is progressing across their locality. What next? The dance goes on and we humans must do the best we can.
Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow... life falls into a pattern of reflection and activity, like the diligently memorised pattern for the Quickstep. One without the other would leave us the poorer. Too much of one or the other will spoil the dance. This Sunday is a time for reflection, before the activity of the week is once more upon us. The snow is just another way of slowing us down. Spring will soon be here and the sleep of winter will be over for another year.
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