Yesterday afternoon I took the dog for a walk. It was cold and foggy, and walking on a little-used path it suddenly felt as if we were the only living creatures in the world: the pheasant, the dog and me. (Though Umbra would have loved to reduce that number to just her and myself, I couldn't allow her to go hunting.)
The ground was cold, the trees were covered with frost. The birches looked great, all white.
Then I saw other people and really felt like they disturbed me, so I went into the courtyard of that old house I have mentioned a while back. Again, I felt like an intruder there. Among the moss covered stones that once made up the walls of stables and the house itself, among the little animals that use the ruins as shelter, I felt like I don't belong there.
Umbra was also anxious to get a second shot on trying to get that pheasant, so we left, scared some sparrows off and went home.
I feel sorry for people who live in places like Florida and never experience the sort of winter we have. I would like a little bit of snow, but at least it is cold and dark. If you don't experience winter, how are you supposed to appreciate spring?
In the evening, my Mom and I went to a concert. (She was singing, I was just sitting around listening and criticising afterwards.) I love Christmas. I love the light of a candle in the dark, and that is what Christmas is for me. In the protestant church, the main feast is Good Friday. Because what is so special about Jesus is not his birth or the things he did during his lifetime, and not even his ressurection, but the fact that he died. I know there is one Christmas song that includes this, but I am never sure which one it is, as it's a verse that is rarely sung.
Yesterday, sitting in the church hearing the songs and seeing the large cross hanging above the altar, I felt this connection. I felt how great the sacrifice was Jesus made. It is why I don't believe in Hell or that I have to do something to "deserve" passing the Pearly Gates. Because wasn't this sacrifice enough?
This afternoon we are going to visit my Grandmother. I had originally only come home to go to choir rehearsal and concert today, but we are doing Christmas Oratory Part 1 (I know that by heart, pretty much) and the mass in b minor (vocabulary? It's H-Moll-Messe in German), which I know very little. So I decided it wasn't worth it to go there and probably spoil it for the other singers. This also means I might not sing on Christmas Eve. It's a pity, but with no rehearsing at all I really think I shouldn't. Next year I hope we'll concentrate on the Christmas Oratory again, and that'll be no problem even with little to know rehearsing, as I've already done parts 1 to 3 like two or three times and parts 4 to 6 once or twice.
The ground was cold, the trees were covered with frost. The birches looked great, all white.
Then I saw other people and really felt like they disturbed me, so I went into the courtyard of that old house I have mentioned a while back. Again, I felt like an intruder there. Among the moss covered stones that once made up the walls of stables and the house itself, among the little animals that use the ruins as shelter, I felt like I don't belong there.
Umbra was also anxious to get a second shot on trying to get that pheasant, so we left, scared some sparrows off and went home.
I feel sorry for people who live in places like Florida and never experience the sort of winter we have. I would like a little bit of snow, but at least it is cold and dark. If you don't experience winter, how are you supposed to appreciate spring?
In the evening, my Mom and I went to a concert. (She was singing, I was just sitting around listening and criticising afterwards.) I love Christmas. I love the light of a candle in the dark, and that is what Christmas is for me. In the protestant church, the main feast is Good Friday. Because what is so special about Jesus is not his birth or the things he did during his lifetime, and not even his ressurection, but the fact that he died. I know there is one Christmas song that includes this, but I am never sure which one it is, as it's a verse that is rarely sung.
Yesterday, sitting in the church hearing the songs and seeing the large cross hanging above the altar, I felt this connection. I felt how great the sacrifice was Jesus made. It is why I don't believe in Hell or that I have to do something to "deserve" passing the Pearly Gates. Because wasn't this sacrifice enough?
This afternoon we are going to visit my Grandmother. I had originally only come home to go to choir rehearsal and concert today, but we are doing Christmas Oratory Part 1 (I know that by heart, pretty much) and the mass in b minor (vocabulary? It's H-Moll-Messe in German), which I know very little. So I decided it wasn't worth it to go there and probably spoil it for the other singers. This also means I might not sing on Christmas Eve. It's a pity, but with no rehearsing at all I really think I shouldn't. Next year I hope we'll concentrate on the Christmas Oratory again, and that'll be no problem even with little to know rehearsing, as I've already done parts 1 to 3 like two or three times and parts 4 to 6 once or twice.
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Date: 2004-12-12 02:21 pm (UTC)That southerners in the U.S. look forward to the time when everything dies probably explains a lot about some of the backwards mentalities people here tend to embrace.
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Date: 2004-12-13 07:06 am (UTC)That's an interesting idea. Though maybe in some places it's just that people stayed out in the sun too long...
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Date: 2004-12-12 02:40 pm (UTC)I grew up in Florida and longed for real seasons, rather than simply Summer and Not Summer. When I moved to Connecticut for work reasons, I experienced my first real autumn -- colored leaves, crisp air, Harvest time. The first snow simply enthralled me. I was up all night watching it.
Then, I discovered I was expected to drive in it...
Washington State has 2 primary seasons as well -- Rainy, and Not Rainy. We do seem, though, to have glimmers of other seasons from time to time, and normally spring is exceptionally prolonged. It's been interesting, living in the different climates.
"Umbra" -- Shadow? It sounds like a fun walk. Dogs enjoy life so much, you can't help but share their enthusiasm.
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Date: 2004-12-13 07:09 am (UTC)Yes, Umbra is our dog's name. It kind of fits her, she's a black and tan Hovawart. And she loves colder wheather, especially when it's a little cool and rainy.
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Date: 2004-12-15 08:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-15 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-12 02:42 pm (UTC)Myrrh is mine it's bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom
Sorrowings, sighing, bleeding, dying
Sealed in a stone cold toom.
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Date: 2004-12-13 07:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-12 07:28 pm (UTC)*hugs*
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Date: 2004-12-13 07:16 am (UTC)Don't be sad that the snow melted, at least you had some. We just have ice on the roads and fog. :-(
Oh, and could you please email me your address again? I'm stupid, I can't find the note I made anymore. (Though I probably will now that I've asked you again. That'd be just like me.)