Trying to find that moment of pause to write, has been harder than anticipated,
to catch it all up and try to paint the picture of these last weeks,
of gingerbread houses and visitors,
of nostalgic schmaltzy Christmas music,
pine needles and puzzles,
the quiet peaceful together moments
candles lit, faces of the children rapt with anticipation
and later, days later the awe and bang which ambushed us upon New Years.
But before the night of explosions was the evening of the bonfire,
families young and old all streaming down towards the water,
to the huge roaring pyre down by the sea, a night where most everyone in our neighbourhood and perhaps beyond came to the frozen beach to watch the tall flames lick the sky.
To lean in together and taste the smoke and hear the crackle and roar. Feel the heat.
Our Christmas here was merry and bright,
full of the stuff of Christmas cards, and childhood memories.
The faces of smiling grandparents were missed, but aunts and uncles blessed our small home
and added to the coziness and sense of something special.
Now it is the business of the new year...returning light...
finding the correct path to tread for 2015.
These recent days have come with gentle rosy Nordic skies.
Unlike anything we have seen in Malta.
So soft and kind,the pastel pinks and purples giving backdrop to the bright white mountain peaks to all sides, (my photos do no justice).
I am savouring these views, for I am certain to miss their presence in years to come.