For
most this is a truly wonderful time of year.... But for many it's a
time where loneliness creates a deep, deep pit, the fact that it's a
baubel and tinsel filled pit adds no joyous merriment for these
sorrow filled souls.
Every
day there is an overwhelming sense of a huge part of my being
missing, but Christmas Day really did turn the knife. At 10am
(way after Santa had been around the houses) I got in to my car and
set about driving to one of mine and Amanda's favourite haunts. As I
drove a soft welling of emotion just below my solar plexus caused me
to weep gently. The empty roads were a misty blur.. After driving
here and there I was finally lead to 'The Sound' (Lands End of Mann)
where Amanda's bench is to be placed, over looking the rugged sea
swept coastline. Here the light drizzle of tears turned in to a
torrential downpour, with a cold front of heavy shoulder shaking
thrown in for good measure. I stood in the wind staring at the
waves, I sobbed and sobbed. Then I turned and walked back
towards my car and drove home. I pulled up outside the house checked
the rear view mirror for the state of my eyes (I was wearing no
mascara or eye liner, so neither had run), then headed in. I spent
the day with my family, chatting, eating smiling. I made a Christmas
Candle Wreath for Amanda's place at the table. I tousled her
favourite red and gold silk scarf around the wreath. It was
lovely.
.jpg)
Once
darkness fell and the stars were visibly twinkling in the night sky
for the first time in over 10 days, I headed to an old derelict cafe
on a nearby headland located on the South of the island. The
air was cold, clear and breezy. I brought my camera equipment
along to keep me company. I took two 45 minute exposures of the
star filled sky.... Whilst I thought about
