I walk out of the front door and I need to walk into a forest or field. They are close by calling me but not quite close enough so time spent in Wharfdale and Grassington collecting Wild Heather and Blackberry's is deeply satisfying. Listening to the wind and bathing in the late colours of the landscape, gives me a real and honest peace. I can take this feeling like nourishment with me, then into my mind and body, and into our home. The patterns of late summer lodge in my dreams, I crave the shades of deep pink and berry purples, I have that needy feeling to stock my cupboards with home-made jams, the corn has been cut and the stubble is sharp in the fields, the nights are darker, and the crows whisper their secrets in the late afternoon long with shadows.
There it is on the horizon do you see and feel it... a coming of Autumn of swirling mists, of magic, of rituals and thanks.