The Summer to Autumn Shift
Last weekend I was lucky enough to spend three days on the edge of the Cotswolds for a hen party. We stayed in a beautiful 1850s house (complete with hot tub!) and spent our time walking in the surrounding countryside, eating cheese, drinking prosecco and relaxing in the garden. It was the perfect way to soak up the shift from summer to autumn, and I loved being outside first thing in the morning, feeling a blustery wind building up and watching birds of prey in the field next door.
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Due to the drought and hot weather, the magnolia was enjoying a late flush of blossom. Near the gate stood a large walnut tree; I tried to pop a walnut shell open like a conker, but they were far from ripe enough yet. I walked across the grass in bare feet with a cup of tea, listening to a raven perched in a nearby tree, and admiring the deep purple rosehips growing near the driveway. At dusk, bats circled the garden beneath a waxing crescent moon, bathed in the apricot glow of sunset.
This week, I’ve been trying to listen to my body as we move closer to autumn. I think the baby must be having a growth spurt, as by early afternoon every day I’m absolutely exhausted. So there’s no evening work for now, no long afternoon walks or late nights. It suits the incoming season, as in the Celtic Wheel of the Year, Samhain is a time for inner contemplation and reflection over the last few months. As a result, I’m allowing myself to rest when my little toddler allows. The kettle is always boiling, and I’m eating a lot of biscuits.