Here in the UK, the autumn so far, has been a damp one. Each morning we awaken to news footage of northern towns submerged in water. Road signs adrift in the middle of a lake, the tops of cars forming islands in new rivers, sand bags piled hopefully at doors.
My small garden already a brown, muddy patch of earth, is quieter but still has little jewels to share. The seed heads and berries, the return of the starlings to the bird feeder, the late autumn sun golden when it shines.
I like the ‘laying bare’ of this time of year. The frill and froth is falling and you are left with the shape of things. I enjoy the tidying and the clearing, and the tucking away the bulbs for Spring. It is a gentle time of year, a time of sighs and fires, with none of the urgency of the spring or the summer, the tasks in the garden will wait for me to get to them, and when I do them, they stay ‘done’ until the spring. My veg patch is cleared and empty and I know as soon as we are into the new year I will be planning the garden afresh again, but for now the work is done.
So before we turn towards the busyness of the Christmas month, I am doing my best to really enjoy the beauty in this last month of Autumn, and I wanted to share this wonderful poem by Mary Oliver who captures like no other the feeling of the late autumn season….Song for Autumn
Wishing you a magical November.
Haile x o