#OmensandSymbols . . . .the Black Dog




“As an indicator of the otherworldly, the Black Dog is known in many lands,
and in Ireland is regarded as a frequenter and protector of fairy sites such
as their dwellings and pathways. Normally, the same dog is seen over several
generations in the same location, huge, often immobile, watching menacingly,
though rarely dangerous if left in peace…..”

~Eddie Lenihan & Carolyn Eve Green; Meeting the Other Crowd,
The Fairy Stories of Hidden Ireland (2004)








Photo source:
Text & image source: Between the Realms







As I’m growing older, I’ve found that in the end,
As I mature and mellow I’ve become my own good friend.
Less critical of who I am, more free to live each day,
In line with things that matter, as old worries fade away,
And I see dear friends who have passed on, and maybe missed their chance,
To exercise full freedom in life’s demanding dance.
To do those things that feed our souls, those chances that are missed,
To write another tick against our lengthy bucket list.
And though I’m quite forgetful, some things are best mislaid,
No need to rake the ashes of mistakes we may have made.
And yes, my heart’s been broken, as some folk have done me wrong
But as I’ve come through I know it’s true, the pain has made me strong,
As a heart that’s never suffered with no bruise or scar to show,
Has missed an opportunity to learn and then to grow.
As I stroll along the Summer sands, in comfy shorts so baggy,
My Speedo days are just a haze, my bum has gone all saggy..
But wrinkles never bother me, I wear each one with pride,
I see them all as laughter lines, and feel so young inside.
My body may be failing and my hair has turned snow white,
And the mirror in the bathroom makes a less than perfect sight,
But I’m privileged to be here, as I’ve travelled a long way,
And as long as I’m around I’ll always try to seize the day,
Binding close to friends and family, to those who are so giving,
To those precious, special people who all make my life worth living..

Copyright © Michael McCarthy





Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook

—some unseen influence that penetrates the soul




“The days may not be so bright and balmy—yet the quiet and melancholy that
linger around them is fraught with glory. Over everything connected with autumn
there lingers some golden spell—some unseen influence that penetrates the soul
with its mysterious power.”

– Northern Advocate






image credit: Craig Doogan
Text & image source: Luminous Spirit

#FridayFantasy . . . .the pleasure of knocking off wild apples.




“To appreciate the wild and sharp flavors of these October fruits,
it is necessary that you be breathing the sharp October or November air.
What is sour in the house a bracing walk makes sweet. Some of these apples
might be labeled, “To be eaten in the wind.” It takes a savage or wild taste
to appreciate a wild fruit. . . The era of the Wild Apple will soon be past….
I fear that he who walks over these fields a century hence will not know the
pleasure of knocking off wild apples. Ah, poor soul, there are many pleasures
which you will not know! . . . the end of it all will be that we shall be
compelled to look for our apples in a barrel.”

Henry David Thoreau






Art Joanna Westerman
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook

#SoftTuesday . . . .When your old wedding ring was new




When your old wedding ring was new
And each dream that I dreamed came true
I remember with pride
How we stood side by side
What a beautiful picture you made as my bride
Even though silver crowns your hair
I can still see the gold ringlets there
Love’s old flame is the same
As the day I changed your name
When your old wedding ring was new

lyrics by Bert Douglas




Art Adele Lorienne S.
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook

The Falling of the Leaves:





Autumn is over the long leaves that love us,
And over the mice in the barley sheaves;
Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us,
And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves.

The hour of the waning of love has beset us,
And weary and worn are our sad souls now;
Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us,
With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.

By W.B. Yeats.





Art Suzan Visser
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook

#WorldofSymbolism . . . .the fleeing stag




“In alchemy, the fleeing stag represents the soul that mediates
between body and spirit in the process of transmutation.
The red-haired woman seems intent on “crossing the divide.”
Not a surprising idea for Waterhouse, who painted this during
his final days, leaving it unfinished.”

~ Edmund Dulac






“The Mystic Wood,” JW Waterhouse, 1914-17, oil on canvas, Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane, Australia
Text & image source: Edmund Dulac – Home