Summer , summer , summer.
It still feels like just a month since it was winter. This is of course my age playing tricks on me. The passing of time is different and keeps changing with age. No matter how youngish one is the fact is that one has spent a certain amount of time outside the mother's womb walking on this planet. The cells age, everything ages and hopefully we get wiser. Not all of us though. I notice far to many people stuck in their folly's ruts e.g. the so called leaders of the world. Say no more.
July is the time to be outside. The weather is warm, the clouds have stayed away and it has been sunny. In Iceland a +15°days + sunshine is hot weather. You don't believe it until you experience it.
I have spent a fair amount time in the garden of my 88 years old mother and in my own one. I have been weeding, painting windows and fixing this and that as usual at my mother's place and here at my own I have repaired a rotting outdoor and dug three of four aspen roots out of the ground. The Aspens were felled 7 years ago, with my permission, by my upstairs-neighbour. The roots and the stubs have been rotting of course and there was a bloody stinky mushroom, not good for eating growing up from the roots all around my little garden. I have tried hot water and salt and this and that. Nothing remained except to physically dig them out. Hard work it has been but rewarding. I have great muscles now in stomach, thighs, arms, arse and everywhere else. A good workout. In winter the snow provided me with the workout.
The starlings have youngsters that are fully fledged and fly but not very keen on feeding themselves. Even at the bird feeder where I presented them with oats they wanted mama and papa to feed them, much nicer to be taken care of especially after the cat thin. This cat on the pics was driven inside by the starlings who did not appreciate his company. But I liked his company and he was a keen model too loving the ragrug clad sofa.
I haven't had time for weaving this month, obviously. But I took the wheel out and span under my old rowan tree. I connect it to the Ash tree that was the centre of the ases' world, the Ash tree Yggdrasill. In English the rowan tree has also been called Mountain Ash. In Iceland the Ash tree is rarely found and then in gardens. But there are plenty of the Mountain Ashes. Reynitré í Icelandic like the word Rowantree.
So to make a long story short I span under the hallow old reynitré outside my front door. Hail the tree.
Anna María Lind, MA Textile Art Winchester School of Art.