We always knew what a privilege it was that we could experience those same sights and smells and sounds as the Holy Family on that first Christmas. On a cold winter's night, in the dark, we could walk down the muddy yard to the cow byre. The cows were in for the winter, so were bedded up on straw in their stalls, which was mucked out into a barrow each morning. Twice a day hay was put into the racks in front of them. Bales were stacked up, handy to sit on, or we could be lifted up onto the wooden meal bins, to watch Dad milk. The milk was poured through a sile into the churns. So there was the scent of hay, and the cow's breath, the smell of new warm milk, so totally different to anything you would ever buy, a prickly sharpness of straw and chaff, which had a dry, dusty scent, linseed cow cake and rolled barley meal, the warm sweet scent when the cows lifted their tails ! Yes, this was part of the experience of being in the cow byre. Then the scent of Dad's kitle, and the patina of his cap, which he turned so the peak was at the back when he was milking, and was burnished by the flanks of all his cows, each of whom he loved as his own family. Sometimes, in the cow byre, a cow was sick and had to be given medicine. Sometimes in the byre a cow gave birth, and we had to assist to get the calf out alive. These were scents, and sounds, and textures, experiences of being in the cow byre. Dad would show us over the half door of the byre that there was a face on the moon, which were the brightest stars in the dark, dark night. Then when milking was done the cows would lie down and you could scratch the top of their tails as they sighed and moaned and chewed the cud. We always knew what a privilege it was that God chose our work place to bring Jesus into the world. No glamour, no glitter, No glaring bright lights, No flashing blue Christmas trees Diverting our sight, No honky-tonk rhythms, No music too loud, No cinema screens Above all the crowd. But darkness, and silence, And scent of the hay. The warmth of the cow’s breath Where poor Mary lay For from home, and in pain, Until she gave birth To our blessed Jesus, No matter the dearth Of conspicuous wealth, Or comfort, or ease, She held in her arms God’s gift, sent to please All those who will listen, Slow down, and stand still - In darkenss, and silence, May you find God’s will Which made me think about the animals depicted by artists in scenes of the nativity. I really like the cow and the donkey in this picture by Geertgen tot Sint Jans painted circa 1460 - 1490. You can see this pictures, and many more on the Art Uk website. Why was the poor child naked ? I hope that the breath of the animals kept him warm. Lots of sheep on the hillside here, and a more prominent cow and donkey, and at last the child has a sheet. This painting is just attribted to being Flemish, 16th century. I love the faces of the neighbours in this picture, at last the poor child is wrapped in swaddling clothes and has some straw. Were the dogs Shepherd dogs ? This picture is by William van Herp 1614 - 1677 , copy of Peter Paul Reubens. This last picture has a shepherd with some bagpipes and a lamb. I love the cow, is it an Ayreshire ? And I hope that the donkey does not eat the lilies. This is by William Bell Scott 1811 - 1890, and it is interesting that the Holy Family are not the main focus of the picture, they are in the background, the focus is on those who came to visit the newborn Saviour.
wishing you many blessings.
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AuthorThis is where you can share creativity with me. I believe that everyone has something creative within them, and it is a joy to find ways of being creative. Blogging is NEW to me, so here goes ..... Archives
January 2024
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