words

Reave

A long and low boundary wall or bank, found especially on Dartmoor and in Devon, mostly now sunk back into the landscape. Also, as a verb, to tear, split, divide or cleave. [caption id="attachment_171626" align="aligncenter" width="778"]Celestial ceilings and soaring skies in Poland Inside of the walls of Wawel Castle, we watch the gigantic strawberry moon rise on Midsummer's Eve 2016 and see the ballet in the castle . Copyright Content Catnip 2015[/caption]

Rof/rifa

An Icelandic word meaning to rip or tear something. Rof á landi refers to the rupture of the top soils of the land or erosion, [caption id="attachment_179090" align="aligncenter" width="1080"]Adventures on the Forth and Clyde Canal A canal bridge over a road in Edinburgh. Copyright Content Catnip 2010[/caption]

Reave

To take away life, rest or sight. From the Oxford English Dictionary.
Or art thou bent against thy loyal lord, To reave his life that gives thee life and breath? - The Cobbler’s Prophecy, 1594 (sig. E3v).

On a dark night, Kindled in love with yearnings–oh, happy chance!– I went forth without being observed, My house being now at rest.

In darkness and secure, By the secret ladder, disguised–oh, happy chance!– In darkness and in concealment, My house being now at rest.

In the happy night, In secret, when none saw me, Nor I beheld aught, Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart.

This light guided me More surely than the light of noonday To the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me– A place where none appeared.

Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more lovely than the dawn, Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved!

Upon my flowery breast, Kept wholly for himself alone, There he stayed sleeping, and I caressed him, And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze.

The breeze blew from the turret As I parted his locks; With his gentle hand he wounded my neck And caused all my senses to be suspended.

I remained, lost in oblivion; My face I reclined on the Beloved. All ceased and I abandoned myself, Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies.

St John of the Cross, Christian Mystic and Poet. Spain. 16th Century

[caption id="attachment_171744" align="aligncenter" width="1080"]Every Picture Tells a Story: Dusk and vespers at Wysa Słodowa in Wrocław Vespers, Ostrów Tumski, Wroclaw Poland. Copyright Content Catnip 2016[/caption]

When chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet; As market days are wearing late, And folk begin to tak the gate, While we sit bousing at the nappy, An' getting fou and unco happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The mosses, waters, slaps and stiles, That lie between us and our hame, Where sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

Robert Burns. Poet. Scottish. "Tam O'Shanter'. 1790 [caption id="attachment_171366" align="aligncenter" width="719"]Every Picture Tells a Story: Lake Menteith in the fading light of a winters night Tam O'Shanter and ice-skating on Lake Menteith in Stirling. Copyright Content Catnip 2015[/caption]

Hibernal

From Latin hībernālis (wintry), from hiems (winter), hibernal is term for something that refers to winter. On this, the long, long night of Winter Solistice of the southern hemisphere, the dawns and the gloamings grow ever deeper and more thickly velveteen black. Although this point in time marks the darkest, longest night and from this kernel grows the essence of rebirth, renewal and outward growth. Magic by Iceland and Thoreau

The Wild Hunt

One ancient European pagan myth has a ghostly gathering of faeries, elves or lost souls in wild pursuit of prey during this magical and potent time, led by Odin. Famously depicted in the painting Asgårdsreien (1872) by Peter Nicolai Arbo [caption id="attachment_181790" align="aligncenter" width="1080"]Travel: A winter afternoon of contemplation in Queenstown Copyright Content Catnip 2015[/caption]

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. ... No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.

Martha Graham