The world from my window

In the dawn, a full moon - lit from inside like a giant paper lampshade sphere - hovers for a while as it heads down in the western sky. It is reluctant to go, as if it wants to enjoy the frosty morning and bright day ahead. Its man-in-the-moon face looks cheerful rather than its usual mournful self. It's not ready for bed. I see the moon, the moon sees me God bless the moon and God bless me God let the light that shines on me Shine on the one I love But the patriarch sun is playing catch-up in the east and begins its ten-hour arc over Bluebell Hill and Flat-Top Pen, just as it has done for thousands and millions of years. Venus gives a final twinkle before retiring for the day. In The Enchanted Village, all is quiet. A single crow sits on one of the metal stays supporting the weather vane on the church tower. A cockerel crows and cars drive slowly by along icy roads on their way to work. That's about it. Love Maddie x

There are some advantages to being back in the rat race. I hate getting up in the dark and going home in the dark. But the beauty of the skies in December is breathtaking. This morning, a Homeresque dawn greets me as I drive past the BBC transmitting station, that modern take on Stonehenge, metal mast icons for the Age of Aquarius. And then this evening. Wow! Venus is a brilliant diamond in the south west at dusk, following Jupiter down as the evening wears on. It is a joy to drive home towards them. And then, as I walk the dogs, I realise I don't need the torch. The Oak Moon, or Snow Moon, is on its way, rising high above three beech trees in the hedgerow. Absolutely stunning. I stop and take it all in, breathe in the cold air and smell the woodsmoke. I thank God I am healthy and alive. According to the wonderful Stargazers' Almanac, given to me by the boffin who runs the mobile planetarium, we will be able to see Saturn at midnight during the middle of the month and then Merc...