Autumn Cottage Diarist

New Year's Eve 2020 - a Wander in the Winter Gardens

A relaxing (I hope!) ten minutes in the Winter Gardens of the Sir Harold Hillier Gardens and Arboretum.

This has been a bit of a year, hasn't it? Wishing you all a much happier 2021!

 

A Strange Sort of Solstice

It's a strange year right to the end. Here are some thoughts on these particular 2020 Solstice days - and (as always!) a look around the garden as She rests and the year turns.

 

 

Treasure Hunting - and Back Home again!

A little outing to one of my favourite places - and what I brought home with me!

 

 

Black Gold!

It's a dank and foggy November day here - so I kept myself warm by turning the compost heap! Hard work now gives a rich food for the garden in just a few months, with the added bonus that nothing goes to waste here. Recycling at its best!

 

 

Late November in and Around the Cottage

A little tour around, inside and outside Autumn Cottage as the weather closes in.

 

A Strange Samhain

Well - here we are again, on the threshold of Samhain 2020, and it's so different to any marking of the end of the Celtic/Pagan festival year than I have experienced before. It's normally a time of peaceful reflection, when I sit in the summer house, set up an Ofrenda for my beloved Ancestors and Loved Ones, light the candles, remember and honour them in tranquility.

Not this year - This year, the year of COVID-19, the year of confusion, of the unknown, of the unexpected, of the unwelcome - this year is different. From the death of my dear cat Pip back in February, to the alien world of Lockdown and then social distancing, mask wearing, vigilant sanitary precautions and a whole world of uncertainty about how to behave and how to relate to our fellow human beings, even for somebody such as myself who has not been personally touched with tragedy through the Covid virus, the world is a very different and strange place to what it appeared to be this time last year.

Samhain is the time when we move down into the dark days of the year, when the natural world up here in the Northern Hemisphere starts to go into a period of rest, decline, death and decomposition. As we observe the nonhuman world enter this period, then so we are reminded of our own material, corporeal beings, our own mortal existence and the fact that this will also reach a point of decline, death and decomposition.  But also - if we observe in the long term - it will become clear to us that the decomposition is a vital precursor to feeding what will come after - the new life that WILL burst forth from the earth and will continue the circle of life.

These concepts have been, I must admit, both a poetical and a theoretical idea for me up until now; but during the last few months, I have had health issues which have caused me to very literally look death - briefly - in the face. My own mortality is now a thing of reality, rather than just an academic concept. It's a tough one to start to face, no doubt about that, but it's a fact that will become only too real to us all one day. I guess it's a privilege to be given the time to get used to the idea (a LONG time I hope!) rather than having Sister Death turn up and tap me on the shoulder, out of the blue with no warning.

And now, this very evening, our Prime Minister has held a news conference to tell us that we will all be going back in to a form of lockdown for another month, in order to try to quell the upsurge in Coronavirus cases, an increase which is threatening to be larger and even more devastating than the first surge of the virus in the early part of this year. The leavening to this serious news is that we are (supposedly) better prepared - more protective equipment and staff numbers for the National Health Service, more systems in place to support the economy and a well prepared and fast (15 minute) form of personally administered testing that will be available, distributed and coordinated by the army, to be available nationwide within days. (Hmm - I'll believe it when I see it; like politicians of all colours, promises are more easily made than kept!)

But there is a little light at Autumn Cottage in all this darkness… a little cat has joined the Cawley family. We have acquired “Fluffy”, a 14 year old tortoiseshell and white little lass from the local cat rescue organisation, after we were told that her age and health problems (she has a cardiac issue) meant that little interest was being shown in her; the possibilities for her adoption did not look very bright. Since we are none too sturdy ourselves at the moment, we thought we would all make a good match and could be three old fogies together! So far, that is exactly how things have turned out to be 😊

She is, as we were warned, “extremely nervous”, though after three weeks she is a great deal less nervous than she was. She is more or less left to her own devices, spends a good part of the day sleeping and the rest of the time eating tasty morsels & little biscuit treats and getting numerous cuddles and pets. It seems to be working well and it is certainly lovely to have another little living creature in the house, though it goes without saying that she will never be a replacement for our darling Pip, nor would we ever want her to be.

So, my friends, down we go into the dark days together here; I will be calling on all my creative resources to keep me going through the next few months. I'm undertaking a memoir writing course with the University of  Oxford at the moment that is keeping me busy both with my own writing, but also in devouring lots of wonderful biographies and memoirs written by others. I also intend getting my sewing machine into action again - though this requires a certain amount of clear space in which to work, which may well be a little time in coming, according to how the energy levels go. They are slowly returning, but it may well be a long job, so stick around to keep me company in the meantime (and enjoy this little video walk around the garden this afternoon)

 

A Blessing Arrived at my Door Today

I thought the crunching of the gravel on the drive early this morning heralded an early delivery of a book that I had ordered…but when I looked, there was no parcel – but an envelope. Hmm – hand delivered? - must be someone handing out flyers for a local event? No such thing; I was greeted by the delightful card below – and inside – good wishes for the Autumn Equinox – from An Admirer of Autumn Cottage (and the garden!).

Out of the blue – a little package of love, an unexpected surprise to make my heart soar, and feel that suddenly, a Monday was a much nicer day than usual!

Dear friends – never be in any doubt that gestures like this make a difference. Never be in doubt that in this difficult, angry, conflicted world, there are still good, kind thoughtful people out there – and that one of them chose, today, to go to the effort of paying me a compliment, bringing me this gift and blessing my spirit abundantly.

If they read this blog, they will know who they are.

Thank you, friend – you have made my day very special.

The last rose of summer?

Golden Days before the Winter Dark

We have recently been blessed with some of those glorious, golden autumn days that often occur around this time of the year - days when everything seems to stand still, when not a leaf moves or a bird flies by; days that have the remnants of sultry summer days, but also a component of change - subtle ripening that builds to the rosy abundance of harvest time .

We took some time on Monday to get out and about to enjoy the countryside while the weather is still good. As an inveterate church crawler, I often put an itinerary together as a ‘steeple chase’,  creating a navigation pathway amongst villages,  between church and church, spires and towers.

I've mentioned before that I consider the British parish church to be one of the greatest repositories of People’s art hidden away in full view; even for those without religious beliefs, I have found at least one item of artistic merit (in my eyes at least) in every church that I have ever encountered, that is worth seeking out or at least being pleasantly surprised by on a fleeting visit. The experience is even more pleasurable if you can read the symbology behind so many of the artefacts and adornments inside and out of the building itself, and I would always recommend gaining a little knowledge of what may be found there before paying a visit.

Our first stop was not, however a tiny village, but the larger town of Bampton at the hub of our ‘visit wheel’ which has, over the last decade, become known internationally as one of the locations in which ‘Downton Abbey’ has been filmed. It's a town barely larger than a village, so it was not surprising to see both enthusiastic evidence of the filming and the tourist influx which has been created, in the form of ‘The Downton Mile’ – a  hand drawn map, which you can download here (and also watch a very interesting short video narrated by Hugh Bonneville on the history of the Old Grammar School).  But there was also a notice in one residence complaining of the fact that 30,000 visitors had ‘besieged’ the town (with  a population of round only 2,600 in 2019), which I can quite imagine must have given a sense of being invaded rather than visited. Downton Abbey did not bring joy to everyone!

St Mary's Church

'Mrs Crawley's'

The Old Grammar School, now Library ('Downton Cottage Hospital')

The charm of the town does not just hinge on the fact that it became ‘Downton’ however – much of the characterful, prosperous architecture hails from the 17^th & 18^th century - being a market town built on the thriving wool trade since at least the 13^th century. It also has a claim to fame as having a particularly enthusiastic Morris Dance tradition – a pursuit that is commemorated in this market square mosaic – and in the name of a local pub!

After a light lunch, we meandered slowly back - but what we hadn't bargained on when we ventured out on our meander was that, although churches in our own County are now by and large open for private prayer, in other counties it is not necessarily the same. In the area we visited (known as ‘The Land of the 12 Churches’), those that I had placed on our itinerary were all still locked. Some of them had notices declaring that the key was with a key holder if we wanted access, but these would have been time consuming to track down, so we contented ourselves with wandering around four small, very peaceful Cotswold villages, just enjoying their ancient vernacular architecture.

Alvescot

There is nothing quite so delightful as wandering around a little English village in September sunlight, with hardly another person around; most of our encounters were with workmen, carefully repairing old stone walls - and even that was a joy to behold, to see ancient structures being loved and cared for, their future ensured for another century. We ended up  in the villages of Alvescot, Black Bourton, Kencot and Broadwell,  and though the churches were closed - no matter, as there were still the churchyards to explore! It was just a delight to wander around the  little village lanes and alleyways, gathering photographs - the only souvenirs I usually collect these days.

Kencot

 And at our last stop, the lovely autumnal sight of four Crab apple trees inside the church wall, bending low with fruit. It was only when we took a walk around that churchyard that we noticed that the trees were depositing much of their fruit on the ground inside the wall, abundantly spread and many already rotting.

Broadwell

We thus felt no guilt whatsoever in gathering up the ripe, unblemished fruit in a carrier bag to bring home with us. That bag is now sitting in the kitchen, awaiting attention this afternoon to be turned into a batch of Crabapple jam to join the jars of Blackberry and Apple jam and the Fig and Date chutney which are now sitting on  my pantry shelves. (Update – all now bubbling in the slow cooker 😊 )

I often ponder on what I see offered to visitors to my country as examples of ‘typical Britain”, and I think it must sometimes be a disappointment to be presented with a tawdry,  ‘Disneyfied’ picture of ‘Ye Olde England’. The chances are that if you are visiting as part of a coach load on a whistle stop tour of the popular  ‘sites’, you won't really see old England (or Wales or Scotland). But the footprint and the fabric of our history IS very much still there - down a little one track lane, accessible probably only in quite a small car - or on foot. It won't have souvenir stalls or fast food, but if you can find it (and I can tell you where to look), in one’s and two’s (four at the most), you will be rewarded with restrained beauty, peace and tranquillity, living history and a courteous but possibly rather reserved British  welcome.

But if you can't get here, I plan many more ventures down those little country lanes,  and it will be my pleasure to take you along with me.

I haven't Gone Away!

Just a week since I wrote my last ‘Month in the Country’ post and it has seemed strange everyday since to not be writing every day; but I enjoyed getting back into the blogging habit again, so hopefully you'll enjoy reading these updates on a more regular basis.

The autumn is well and truly with us, but at the moment we are enjoying some very pleasant autumn days - that is, apart from the one day we chose to make a family outing last week, to the Cotswold wildlife park, when we were treated to a heavy downpour from midday onwards; Sods law in all its glory! I still enjoyed myself with my camera - I rarely buy a souvenir of anything anywhere these days (not that it would be easy with most of the ‘attraction’ shops still closed due to social distancing), my souvenirs nowadays are collected purely through a camera lens .

Clouded Leopard

On Friday, a very happy return – to the Hungerford Antiques Arcade, which I last visited before lockdown. Fully masked up, of course, but not a high level of anxiety, as there were hardly any shoppers there. Only a short browse – but I found that both Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I wanted to come home with me!

I'm also starting out on a different sort of new adventure this week; my husband has finally retired after 45 years of hard work, creating innovative computer equipment which has resulted in the employment of hundreds of other people – I think he can be very proud of that. It came unexpectedly in the end,  though he was planning on departing in the next year or two, having already worked past the UK retirement age, and now I think he deserves to enjoy his leisure time (not too much though - I have a list of jobs ready and waiting for him!!) HIS adventure will be in deciding what to do with that leisure time and both our adventures will be in adapting to these new circumstances - interesting times lie ahead!

One thing with which we are blessed is the fact that we live in some beautiful countryside, so for even only a short car journey away there are many country parks and country walks that we will both enjoy together or separately. Indeed, we only have to step out of our front door to wander in Forestry Commission and private woodland. Yesterday morning we were able to take a walk around the Lake at Thatcham Discovery Centre on the other side of town, renovated gravel pits that are now home to a large variety of wildfowl.

Very popular with photographers - and mothers with small children who are able to introduce their little ones to wildlife up close, hopefully instilling a love of the natural world from very early days. Here are a few photographs from last week - aren't I lucky to enjoy my freedom to visit these places and the fitness to be able to do so?

A Month in the Country 31 - Tomorrow, I Will Plant Snowdrops!

Three weeks ago, we were wilting in temperatures of 34C here in North Hampshire – tonight, I have a thick wool poncho cosily wrapped around my shoulders, and just for the evening, the central heating has been clicked on. The bees are thrilled to find the Sedums flowering, there are windfall apples falling frequently under the old tree now, (time to make chutney!) and leaves are starting to carpet the pond (time to get the net on).

During this lovely month that I have spent with you all, my friends, the season has truly turned – and we have, I think, also tried to turn towards the future, trying to put the negativities of the last eight months behind us as we return to the (now very different) routines of school, work and social lives, while realising, deep in our psyches, that we have all been changed in some way though our experience of the pandemic. For some of us, only small, but real changes, for others, events resulting in devastating loss, grief and disorientation.

And though it all, I have had the privilege of my garden outside my door, and my friends over the internet ‘airwaves’ – friends with whom I have also shared these 31 days of musings from the countryside and friends who have been so generously sharing their thoughts and responses to the journal prompts – all of which I now intend to go through and re-read at my leisure and pleasure.

I hope some of you will also return to the prompts if any have caught your interest – remember that life is a Spiral Journey, so each visit that you make, over time, will always bring a fresh perspective.

Thank you all so very much for coming along with me on this little journey through August 2020; hopefully I will look in with an offering at the blog on a much more regular basis – this time with you all has reminded me just how much recording and sharing my thoughts around the Autumn Cottage year most definitely still has something to recommend it.

But for now  - let’s turn our faces towards the golden sunshine of September! The garden may be slowly preparing to take a rest – but we gardeners are always thinking ahead – and tomorrow – I will plant snowdrops! (and Iris…and narcissi – springtime will be here before you know it! 😊)

I leave you with probably my favourite poem of all time, to uplift your hearts at any time should you need it. A reminder to turn, always, to the natural world, of which we are all part, to find healing for body and soul.

Many blessings to you all, dear friends - many blessings

 

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry

Journal Prompt

How will you turn your face towards the Autumn – with pleasure, or with trepidation? Are you starting out on any new adventures at the beginning of the ‘learning year’? How will you spend the longer evenings and the colder days (in the Northern Hemisphere – for my friends in the Southern Hemisphere – what does the approach of Spring and Summer with their longer, hotter days bring for you?)

How – and where – will you find ‘The Peace of Wild Things’?