The Dawning ~ Gatherings from Ireland # 326

I’m sure you all know that feeling of  the dawning ~ the moment when reality strikes on waking. It can be a waking to dreaded realisation that the nightmare was more than that, far more than that – a horror that has to faced, somehow, anyhow.

Or, it can be joy-filled, as on all those Christmas mornings when you know that the day has finally arrived and you sense that Santa has woven his magic, yet again.

When I woke this morning, my first thought was about those Santa mornings  and the red straw shopping bag with frayed plastic lining that I used to leave at the bottom of my bed year after year after year …..  I don’t know whatever happened to the red bag that I associate so much with Enid Blyton books, bath salts, green boxes of six pristine white Dunlop tennis balls,  doggy diaries …..

And what of the precious things that didn’t fit into the red bag?  The big box with the roller-skates I craved; the chemistry set bursting with experiments and danger; Bandit Chase with speedy cars, blaring sirens, highways and fly-overs that were a far cry from the roads of Co. Monaghan in the 1960s and, of course, Elephant who once had wheels and a rope for me to pull but who cast those off long ago as he came to watch over me in the various studies I’ve made my own.

I’m pretty stunned that these were my dawning thoughts today as I thought I had left Christmas behind somewhere but maybe one never does …..