Friday, November 13, 2015


     I awoke in the wee hours of the morning to the sound of the wind shouting to get in. I usually feel quite friendly toward this visitor and his brethren, even the overblown ones, but this time he was pounding on the door like a drunken sailor. My normally placid windchime was ringing a frantic warning. When I peeked out the bedroom window, I saw that my lovely wintercreeper, clinging tenaciously to the corner of the garage beside my front walk for over twenty years, had been cruelly ravaged and thrown to the ground.

     Such piratical behavior is not welcome here. So I kept my door firmly shut against the loudmouthed marauder, but as the windows continued to rattle and wave after wave of tide-wind slammed against the house in fits of rage, I must confess to a little trembling beneath all of my bravado.

A furore septemtriones libera nos, Domine
From the fury of the northwind, Oh Lord deliver us!

     I was alone in the house. It was dark, still several hours until dawn. And I most certainly could not go back to sleep. So I sat in a cosy room furthest from the sound of the wind cracking its blustering cheeks and crocheted a winter scarf striped with echoes of the Aurora Borealis.

Wild wind, sail me away
Over the greensward sea,
My bark and I shall leap the sky
And toss upon the lea.

Mad wind, bear me away
Across the grassy tide,
Break thy steed o'er the coursing mead
Mount where the corbie rides!

                                                                         ~ Nib of Nib's End ~


  1. If this is what 'wind-tide' inspires in you I wish you many a storm...sorry;-) LOVE every line of it!

    We have been having some wild-wind days here as well.

    Thank-you for your encouraging words today~

    1. I believe ours are coming from your direction.

    2. :(
      Well, I hope what we are forecasted to get following this continues to you as well...sunny and 14C!!

  2. Hello to you Miss,
    I know this comment is going to come as a surprise as you don't know me at all. I feel as though I know you to some degree through your wonderful writing. You've taken me places in my imagination through your words and I thank you for that. I honestly cannot tell you how I stumbled upon your lovely corner of the world, but I have been reading for at least a year or more. I appreciate your words and the heart they come from. I simply wished you to know that because of your site and your risk to be vulnerable to the masses, I started my own blog today. I just wanted you know that no good deed goes unseen, My very best to you and your family.

  3. Well I'm distracted from the comment I meant to write by the comment above--now if that doesn't put a smile on your face after your wintercreeper's damage, nothing will!

    I should have guessed from your excellent posts of the past that you are also a poet, a talent I so admire. I told my friend Poppy that I'm trying to love poetry more than I did as a schoolgirl but honestly I have to read it as prose in order to enjoy it. She's trying to get me hooked on her favorite Billy Collins and I struggle through my book every night, hoping that I'll catch on and be the super fan she is.

    I do have a folder of your posts, Nib's End, that I often print out to read over and over for the sheer beauty of them. There are only 3 files where I've done this, yours and Poppy's, and one more, but I won't write the name here where other bloggers might feel left out!

    A blessed weekend to you, Nib's End, during this time when so many are hurting,

    1. You are a kind woman, Dewena--my favorite kind. I mentioned to Janet Martin recently that I don't consider myself a poet, but I have a poets heart. My passion is prose and most of the poetry running in my veins bleeds into it. I do, however, love to read a good poem. It is funny you should mention Billy Collins. I recently discovered him for myself. Google him reading his poem "Litany" on YouTube. Sometimes listening to the poet read it for you makes a difference. Then, just for a kick, Google the three-year-old reciting it too. I don't know which version I like better.

    2. I've already viewed the little boy reciting it--simply amazing! I'll look for the other one too.

      Thank you!

  4. You whisked me away to a stormy night fraught with potential fear and destruction and left me with the vision of you in the distracting comfort of crochet.

  5. You've described, beautifully, a portion of the November I've been having. The dogs and I go to bed, them serene in the knowledge I'll take care of them, and me, rather pitifully serene, in the knowledge God will take care of me. The top came down out of the very old sugar maple tree but away from the house. The wind concerns me more than the snow which is easy to say as it hasn't begun to snow yet.