Very very rarely do you stumble across an event so life-affirming it makes you take stock and want to re-arrange your priorities. Last night was one of those however. A simple gathering in a blacksmith's forge. Mulled wine, chestnuts roasted on the hearth and carols, sung with a compelling sincerity. The smith, a talented man whose hands forge weather vanes, gates, hooks, latches and all the impedimenta surrounding local rural life. His wife, a happy contended hard working woman, organising, bustling and contriving to make their lives rich in experiences of simple artistry. The darkness of the forge, the heat from the fire playing on our faces, and the warming glow of the spiced wine conspired to successfully charge us with a hankering for simplicity, making and growing things, and being extraordinarily thankful and content with our lot. A very Merry Christmas.
