The winter landscape is not one that is easy to find charm in. Pretty it is not. But beautiful it is. The mists and dark woods speak of the Celtic spirits that bring the landscape alive. Along the muddy river banks the afanc once more lurks. Here and there you can hear the whisper of the pixies, a half-glimpse of the horned-man, the clacker of crows, and the korrigan sets spells and traps. I'm reminded of Mercutio's equivocation of Queen Mab (a Celtic spirit) in Romeo & Juliet: "I talk of dreams; which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy...' Dreams and fantasies...yes. These bring our still and dark winter world alive and give it a remembrance and clarity the bright Summer sun can not. Though there was real colour too, on my walk on the Downs. Whilst out I saw gifts that had been left in honour of loved ones now departed. Tied to the land, tied to memories, tied to hidden spirits. And a morsel of food too. And so that connection to the past (whatever past you want), to a present, and most of all to the future we will all share - whether material or spirit. Here is our eternal winter world. Happy 2019.