Changing Seasons.

The heavy rain over the past month has seen the Little Campbell River become much deeper and faster flowing. On rainy days the weather is generally still quite mild, but gone are the clear days of blissful heat: in their place are clear days where the temperature plummets below zero and snow-capped mountains loom in the distance. Bird walks in the early morning are full of thick white frost now, and we rush home afterwards to thaw out with plenty of hot tea.

From a sunny summer day...

...to an icy diamond morning.

Heavily frosted gardens.

A wintery walk.

Fun with puddles!

Warming up with our new teapot.

Overhead, geese fly by in huge flocks, eagles and hawks wheel and circle, their musical cries echoing their eagerness to feast on the salmon, and the small birds hurry to make the most of the few remaining fruits and seeds on the bushes before winter closes in for good.

Early morning geese.

Looking for birds...

We've seen one!

The changing weather has brought with it hosts of memories. As the fog draws in, wrapping the centre in still, dark, quietness, memories of bonfire nights past have become so tangible that I’m sure that I can smell the wood-smoke and hear the sounds of revellers. It certainly felt odd not to be celebrating the absence of a big explosion in parliament during 1605, although the tradition of celebrating this by exploding many fireworks (having attempted to explain this to countless people here) has also struck me as quite odd.

Bonfire nights past...

But preparations for other celebrations are now underway too, distracting me from the absence of bonfires. Sunday marked one full week of advent, and I’ve been indulging in chocolate from the advent calendar my mum and dad sent me!

On Saturday, A Rocha held a Christmas open house and craft market. We’ve been making wreaths and decorations to sell, whilst listening to all our favourite Christmas music to get in the mood (it’s totally acceptable now that it’s December right?). During the week we experienced an arctic flow bringing strong winds and night time temperatures of as low as minus 20! This created some issues with the marquees (that tried to fly away on Thursday night) and meant that Saturday was a bitterly cold day. But the heaters and copious amounts of hot food and drinks kept everyone smiling and the day went very well with 500 people visiting and enjoying spending time here.

To add to my already child-like levels of excitement I was invited to go and help choose the Christmas tree, an experience which involved free hot chocolate, as well as the chance to chop a tree down for ourselves! All of these feelings of warm cosy excitement make me long for time with my friends and family in the UK snuggled up watching films, playing board games, and spending quality time together. I particularly can’t wait to give my lovely collie a long awaited hug.

Getting ready for the Christmas Craft Market: sign painting.

 

Making wreaths and other Christmas decorations.

Setting up at the craft market.

The vendors arrive.

Enjoying working in the food tent!

I’m glad that I’m looking forward to going home: it would make the imminent end of term and the thought of leaving here too difficult otherwise. But longing for Christmas can make me impatient. It’s good to remember to focus on what I’m doing and where I am now, so that I fully enjoy life instead of always searching for the next step and worrying about what will happen next. That doesn't mean that we should go through life without ever looking back or ahead. As the seasons of life change I think it is important to celebrate things that have been, and lament their passing, as well as look on towards the horizon with hope and excitement for what the new season of life will bring. But we should be free to live in the present, without living in the shadow of our past, or crippled by fear of an uncertain future.

Two weeks ago we waved goodbye to Slainte, our favourite Irish pub in White Rock, as they rang the bell for last orders for the final time before they closed forever. It was such a joy to share in the goodbye, singing out our farewell in style. I think this was a particularly poignant moment for those about to finish their final term as interns at A Rocha. There’s a mix of emotions. Sadness is coupled with the joy of having had the chance to spend time here, and excitement for the future and a new season of life. But no matter what, they'll always be welcome back through the open door of those who live at A Rocha.

Sunset at Slainte.

Singing goodbye in Slainte

Enjoying time with the A Rocha music crew.