Tuesday, 23 September 2014

The Autumn Equinox Arrives

The trees have begun to "turn", and the days continue warm,
 full to the brim with the pellucid light of autumn.
 Morning dew lies sweet and heavy.

We are enjoying an Indian summer
 and working through the endless jobs outdoors while the weather lasts.
The earlier folds of falling darkness each evening
 both a source of blessing and wistfulness.
The blessing lies in knowing no more can be done to the chores for the day,
 and sinking into an easy chair guilt free.
The wistfulness comes from the sure sign another summer has ended,
 and the dull days of winter lie ahead.

Still and all, isn't there a delicious tingle of unreasonable expectancy about autumn?

It's the time of harvest.
Of gathering the fullness of spring's bright promise and summer's luscious fullness.

It has always been my favourite season
and in my younger years I wondered, did the talk of 
being in the autumn of one's life 
reflect anything of what getting older really means?

From my present vantage point,
(73 years!),
though life still throws up it's struggles,
there is certainly an autumnal sweetness in the air.
A deep knowing that spring will come round again despite
 the frosts that wither and weary the spirit,
and more than that, there is a life force at the heart,
mellowing golden,
 rich and summer ripe,
more wondrous than I ever expected.

 I will be your God throughout your lifetime--until your hair is white with age.
 I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.
Is 46:4


P.S.  Quoting my age made me realise I needed to update my profile photo, so I did!

Friday, 19 September 2014

A Word for the Weekend?

“In silence there is eloquence.
Stop weaving and watch how the pattern improves."


Wednesday, 17 September 2014

A Day in the Welsh Hills

Last week I spent a few days staying with a friend back home in Wales, 
so on a golden autumn day I drove up out of the valley from Pontypool, 
up over the wide hill tops above Bleanavon.
 From there the road dropped dramatically towards the inviting folds of the Brecon valley, 
with it's farms and hamlets strewn across the green velvet slopes.

where there has been a fortified building since the mid12th century.  
Now the castle is in ruins,
 but the fortified manor house has been restored and is open to visitors.

The buildings sit in a grassy bowl among the hills.

The stillness of the valley,
 combined with the autumn light bathing the ancient stones, 
gave the day a magical sense of timelessness.

  I hope my photos convey something of the peace we enjoyed at Tretower.




We spent some time sitting on a bench in the warm golden sunlight and dreaming,
 but when we were told we could help ourselves
 to the fruit fallen from the ancient mulberry tree our practical selves came to the fore. 
 Mixed with a few strawberries, we gathered enough to enjoy them for dessert that evening.

Eating them was a perfect reminder of those moments when,
 our fingers brushing the dewy grass in the shade of the branches of the ancient tree,
and stained with their juice,  
we had harvested the ripe fruit as they had been harvested for centuries before.


Tuesday, 9 September 2014

Sweet Violas

Planting out some sweet violas and again reveling in the autumnal silence of the garden.
I always have great plans on how much I can get out of the materials at hand so had my pots all ready.

One to sit on the top patio by the bench, 
and yes, those are potatoes in the green pot.
(Hubby's project.)

Two for the front steps.
May be I'm stretching them a bit thin?
 They will turn their little faces to the sun and
thicken up though, 

A nice low pot for the other end of the bench 
and that's the lot all done.
I was delighted that the ones my daughter bought for me
 were scented so to sit here in this late season sun 
will be a double blessing.

Violas are such good value.
Some from last winter are blooming again 
in the planter on the patio table

These in the pot with some roses are also last season's,

as is this one.

I'm afraid I pulled these away from the root
 as I lifted them out of the container.
Still, with a geranium bud, they make a pretty little bunch
 to offer you for the week end.


A Perfect Autumn Day

An afternoon stroll around the lake at Bradnocks Marsh.

The deep silence and clear light of of autumn,

incredibly blue skies,

 leafy shade,

 the sparkle of sunshine on  water,

and a chucking stream to catch reflections

Pretty perfect for September in the heart of England
don't you agree?


Friday, 5 September 2014

Will You, Won't You Join The Dance

Sorry this has turned out to be a pretty poor video of trees dancing in a sea sounding wind.
Last 30 seconds is the best, and it really can't be viewed full screen at all.
 Guess I shouldn't have expected so much from my phone camera,
 but wanted you to get a flavour of what it felt like to stand amongst this living  movement.
I'll try and find a better video and upload it if I do.

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

“Dance, when you're broken open.

 Dance, if you've torn the bandage off.

 Dance in the middle of the fighting. 

Dance in your blood.

 Dance when you're perfectly free.”

― Rumi

May you feel the dance of the universe running through your veins,
and may you be free
 to add steps of your own this weekend.


Tuesday, 2 September 2014

Keys in The Darkness

After a cruelly wet spring, nature has surpassed itself with a harvest early, 
 and abundant.

Among the leaves of this dark leafed tree, (is it a maple?)
 the seeds, known as "keys", hang in heavy bunches.

Glory, glory, glory.
Hidden in the darkness the seeds of new life.
Promise that an empty darkness is not,
 cannot, be the end.

                                                                                                                          Photo:- Hazel Price

Who could conceive a key,
an unlocking,
 would lie in penetrating the very heart of agony,
picking the lock,
breaking the bar,
to open into vast and healing light.
Resurrection light, born of bitter seed borne up,
on wings of the Spirit's breath
 beyond that piercing,
sorrowful, place
into freedom's eternity.

Hope's harvest soaring wide, 
and wild,
, and full of  glory.


"Surely our griefs He himself bore, and our sorrows he carried."

To read the whole of Isiah 53, from which these words are taken