Looking closer

As the clocks went back this weekend we were all treated to that precious extra hour in bed. But the flip side is that the nights are with us far sooner now, and being able to enjoy those dwindling hours of daylight is becoming more of a luxury. Long gone are the carefree days whereby we could just decide to go for a walk and not pay any heed to the time. Now we have to consider where we might be when it gets dark, will we need a torch, are we sure of the direction?

When some dear friends came to visit at the weekend Mr K and I wanted to show them our new favourite walk - the Aston to Burston loop. 

By the time we set off along the canal we were already losing the light.

Looking to the left over to the marina.

And to the right over the fields.

I loved this seat - I wonder who made it?

And the back of this grand house with it's walled garden.

Up to the stile.

Then looking back across the bridge to that glorious red tree  - I can't remember the name, can you?

Over the fields now toward the river.

Looking down through the last of the brightly coloured leaves.

 The sun sinking behind the treeline.

And the birds gathering across the lake.

Stark silhouettes.

Last time we were here the hay bales were waiting for collection.

Now the earth is resting until the spring.

The hedges have been pleached.

But by now the light had almost gone and it was almost impossible to keep taking pictures.

One final treat though as we headed home was this pond. I'd never noticed it before - perhaps lush summer growth had obscured the view - but now it seemed calm and magical.

Although the colours have all but faded this was a wonderful walk. Perhaps we appreciate the colours that are left all the more. We have to look a little more closely but the appreciation is ten fold.

By the time we returned home it was pitch black. We lit the fire and tucked in to our home made apple cake and fresh coffee. We were pretty tired by then but were left with ruddy cheeks, muddy boots and lovely memories.

Jane

xxx

P.S. I've had some great responses to my request for spooky stories but would love to hear more in time for Hallowe'en. If you think you could contribute take a look at my post here - I'll look forward to hearing from yoooooooooou...........

Around the block.

This morning I went for a walk. 

That's it.

Nothing remarkable in that. 

Not anywhere new or of any distance.

Just a little walk around the block.

But it was such a simple uplifting little walk that I found myself really appreciating what was around. 

Like the neighbours geraniums.

My favourite colour door.

Old Neddy. Not his real name I'm sure but suits him to a tee.

The luminous depth of this tree.

Down to the allotments.

And back along the canal.

Where the early morning mist had lingered - just enough.

Although at some points it still seemed like midsummer.

Small details.

And signs.

The perennial 'trying to get Jessie dog to look the right way when you are trying to take a photo of her' caper.

And home.

That's it.

A walk around the block.

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Jane

xxx

P.S. A sneak peek at a little project we have coming up. All very exciting but not quite ready to reveal yet.

Reflecting...

If you've been around here for a while you may have noticed that each time May comes around I get quite excited (see here). On the flip side of that September makes me wistful. Not wistful in a melancholic way but reflective about the changing of the seasons. I suppose it's partly the goodbye to the long days of Summer and all that entails - garden in full bloom, school holidays and family time - but also about what is to come.

This week has been 'back to school' for me, college for Little Sis and Mr K, and the beginning of Big Sis's last year of university (LAST YEAR! How did that happen? It doesn't seem two minutes since I was sending off Squinty the Smelly Owl!) 

Gone are the long mornings of coffee and lazing around. Monday was straight back in to an 8am meeting about safeguarding and behaviour policies. It was a shock to the system to say the least but the early drive in gave a clear indication of Autumn approaching. The sun was still low but the mist looked almost luminous as it hung over the fields. Already there is a 'nip' in the air and that will soon be followed by the smell of woodsmoke from the boats on the canal. We've lit our fire a couple of times, snuggling down on the sofa with candles and a good film. Some people are even talking about Christmas. CHRISTMAS - now that is rushing forward a bit!

As ever the clearest indication of change can be found in the garden.

The geraniums that have cheered us with their blousy heads are becoming sparse.

Hydrangeas are drying on their stems, ready to be collected and sprayed for a Winter display.

And the verdant green of summer is taking on richer tones.

 The dog roses are producing their first flush of hips.

And our young apple tree is groaning under the weight of its fruits.

The birds are already enjoying our tayberries.

And the ivy is producing its own fruits - ready to fatten up the wood pigeons as the temperature drops.

But even as some flowers are way past their best ...

... there are still some stunners!

I love that nature does this. To our eyes the garden is now coming to an end but it is quietly continuing to provide for the local wildlife - a symbiotic relationship that never fails to both  intrigue and delight me!

Last night I went for my Wednesday evening walk with my dear friend Jane (yes another one - we're everywhere!) We met at seven thirty and intended to do a three mile loop along the canal. By the time we were heading back to the car it was pitch black - the night had suddenly 'dropped' on us in that way that makes you realise 'okay - game's up! Next time either meet earlier or bring a torch!'

But in spite of the drawbacks I still love this time of year. I've already mentioned the candles and open fires but of course one of my personal pleasures is the return of the woolly jumper and the cardigan - I do love a good cardigan!

How do you feel? Do you enjoy the changes? Some of you of course will be welcoming Spring and seeing everything kick back in to action. What would you prefer - a continuous season where temperature and daylight hours remained the same throughout - or the transition of warmth to cold, long days to short?

Whilst you are pondering I'll leave you with a picture of our cheery bird feeder. I realise the word 'cheery' could just as well be replaced by 'terrifying' but the birds love him all the same.

Sending hugs

Jane

xxx

P.S. Yarndale is fast approaching so do get in touch if you want to meet up!

Belonging

Have you ever felt that you truly belong somewhere? Like at some point in the past you must have lived in a place that became such a part of you that years have not faded the link? Mr K has always felt a pull towards the sea. Now this one is easy to understand as he spent his childhood up on the North East coast of England. But as for me? My first few years were spent in the glorious seaside town of Hoylake on the Wirral peninsula. From there we moved several times - usually to modern houses on the outskirts of small towns. All very lovely and all with their fair share of greenery but nowhere that I could particularly say I felt rooted.

So why then, last week when Mr K and I ventured forth to somewhere completely new to both of us, did I immediately feel at home? 

Consall Forge first came to my attention via the lovely Rosie at Corners of My Mind. Set in the Churnet Valley in Staffordshire it turned out to be only half an hour away and yet we'd never heard of it before. As we approached, the verdant narrowing lanes set the scene. Within moments of leaving the car and setting foot on the woodland path I declared that this was my favourite place ever.

We continued along the one hour route 

Breathing in the freshness as the sun broke through the canopy

.

Layers of green

Punctuated with natural hues

Decay

Alongside new life

Somewhere to breathe it all in

Maybe it's to do with reading too much Enid Blyton as a child but who can't help but think trees like these must be enchanted?

We knew the River Churnet ran through the valley but we didn't expect this. On our way back to the car we found a clearing.

A place to rest

And be visited by the locals - some more easy to spot than others

Do you see him?

Back through the buttercup meadow to begin the journey home

I can't say what it is that I find so restorative about this particular landscape. I've thought about it quite deeply. Is it the symbiotic nature of all that goes to create such a place that makes me feel as though I am part of some larger living thing? The combination of water and woodland that makes the freshness so contagious? The timeless quality  - how would people one hundred years ago or more viewed these same woods?

 Some time ago I wrote about Sara Maitland's 'Gossip from the Forest'.

Here she goes to explore what has made the forests and woodland of Britain such magical places - using fairy tales, folklore and historical fact to describe how their personalities have developed over the centuries. It makes for a fascinating read.

For me the woodlands and rivers will remain magical places. 

Somewhere I truly feel I belong.

Jane

xxx