It will not always be like this The air windless, a few last Leaves adding their decoration To the trees’ shoulders, braiding the cuffs Of the boughs with gold; a bird preening In the lawn’s mirror. Having looked up From the day’s chores, pause a minute, Let the mind take its photograph Of the bright… Read More
A crisp, golden morning on the West Highland Way. Worth getting up at the crack of dawn for.
A gorgeous day! And a good one to climb Dumgoyne – the hill that dominates the landscape behind our new home. There’s been snow on the tops of the Munros for about a week now, and it seems to be rapidly creeping down to lower altitudes – so I wanted to get up there before… Read More
One of the very great pleasures of living here is that the West Highland Way is on our doorstep. I walk out of our steading, and about a hundred yards up the way is a glorious landscape, at the far edges of which (on a really clear day) Ben Lomond and the Trossachs and the… Read More
We got up early, and drove down to the Borders. It was a beautiful crisp morning. When we arrived in Lauder, the sun was already turning the frost into a magical, dewy haze. Today, the Autumn colours seemed even more deeply saturated. I want to knit everything in these tapestry blues and golds. While Bruce… Read More
Gold Orange and Green Russet Flame A wine-red haze of hawthorn (the birds are going mad for it) Silver Black Marigold (He found it in the woods. He was so pleased with himself that I had to let him keep it. . . then he chewed off and devoured one of the fingers. Now it… Read More
The leaves are turning. In the hedgerow, just a few berries remain . . . . . . and there is a decided nip in the air. But I am ready for Autumn. I have a new hat . . . . . .and mittens. These lovely things were not knitted by me, but by… Read More
I managed to throw some dirt and twigs on my head. That is all.
Herbsttag Herr: es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war sehr groß. Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren, und auf den Fluren laß die Winde los. Befiel den letzten Früchten voll zu sein; gib ihnen noch zwei südlichere Tage, dränge sie zur Vollendung hin und jage die letzte Süße in den schweren Wein. Wer jetzt kein Haus… Read More
More graffiti, of a kind. If you are often out walking around the North side of Edinburgh as I am, then you may well have spotted the mysterious leaf-folk who have recently appeared near Belford bridge. One turned up a few weeks ago, and there are now five human figures plus a leafy dog. Their… Read More
Autumn seems to have arrived while we were away. The plums on Jesus’s tree have been turned into jam, the brambles in the local hedgerows are all but gone, and the rosebay willowherb has blown spectacularly to seed. It seemed the right sort of time to ascend Corstorphine, which has, perhaps, the most woodland character… Read More
I’ve been yearning to get properly outdoors all week. I find that a customary sort of melancholy takes hold of me when the clocks go back, and that my daily routine of rising and returning in the dark starts to seem a bit relentless. So it was very good to take advantage of a lovely… Read More