October, 2021
Friday 22nd
Hedges have been cut into angular oblongs, a sparse latticework of wintry trunk and twig. Tan leaves are the texture of old leather. After the lascivious sprawl of late summer, leafless stalks of copper bracken stand straight as soldiers.
The verge is a bay dun carpet of fallen foliage, gently rotting into musty leaf mould, slowly reclaimed by the hungry earth, life-giving in expiry.
Blackberries are shrivelled clusters of muted purple or the vibrant red of arrested development, never to ripen. Hawthorn berries hold court, the colour of Christmas.
Against a backdrop of amber, russet and maroon, young blackface ewes and tups in a turnip field gorge on their leafy feast, while Herdie yearlings, with coats of chocolate, graze on lush grass, greened with October rain.
The brown moss of summer is now a sage green mantle coating the white shoulders of the dry stone wall, and the scalloped wings of a comma butterfly are a splash of exquisite orange.
Saturday 30th
Down comes the rain, pattering rhythmically on the hood of my coat, washing away colour until everything becomes an ink wash, a pencil blur, a smudged impression of charcoal and slate; a landscape rendered almost in monochrome, but for the amber flurries of leaves, blown into billowing eddies by vigorous gusts.
Yet, as the squall subsides, the horizon is band of ethereal yellow, beneath a soft blanket of cloud, grey as Herdwick wool.
And after the rain, the hedgerow is a fireglow of autumnal warmth. Trees are the muted colours of harvest bounty: mustard and mulberry, honey and lemon curd, russet apple and Cox’s orange pippin, copper ale and barley wine, Burgundy and tawny port; all gilded with the mellow light of shortening afternoons, and infused with the earthy aromas of compost. And from a cottage chimney wafts the welcoming smell of woodsmoke.
Thanks, George . . . Fortunate aren’t we, having stuff like that on our doorsteps. A lovely read.
Thank you, David. Yes we are very fortunate indeed.
A change of style, George, which is always worth doing to refresh yourself. At times, the intensity of the focus upon the leaves and flowers of the hedgerows was reminiscent of ‘The Wind in the Willows’.
That’s a mighty compliment, Martin. Thank you.
Well that was a treat. So many familiar faces from the New Forest when I was growing up. I’ve not heard that called witches butter, excellent name.
Thank you, Geoff. Delighted you enjoyed it. Witches’ butter is indeed an excellent name.
Brilliant – you are like a Lakeland Richard Jefferies.
Thank you so much, John.
Very nicely done, and informative as always.
Thank you, that’s very kind.
Really good article(s) ! Don’t think I ever heard of Lesser Celandine before. They are among my favorites of your photos. The forget-me-nots too. And the kid.
Thank you, Neil. The kid was adorable. Lesser celandine flower early which makes them a welcome sight. They are supposed to be natural barometers, unfurling their petals in good weather and closing up against the wind and rain. They’re all gone now. Replaced by buttercups or crowfoot, which they superficially resemble l.
I was looking for inspirational poetry in my books yesterday, but found it here in words and wonderful pictures.
Hanna
That’s a lovely thing to say. Thank you do much.
George, thank you for sharing such an enjoyable diary and processional, elegant writing and wonderful photos. The obvious sincerity of this paean to your corner of the earth is heartwarming, and even the intrusion of news from the Ukraine fits in, honest reporting, like becoming aware of ominous buzzing from a disturbed hornet nest. The colors may change and fade, but I will remain green with envy that this wealth of nature is available for your lunchtime strolls.
Thank you, Robert. That’s a wonderful compliment. I love the hornet nest image.
P.S. I’d wanted to comment on your Loweswater article, that the tale of supernatural death has prompted me to add to my List of Dangerous Things to Avoid, Even if Properly Sanitized After Usage Near Wrong End of Horse: “Crupper/Horsey Bits of Demonic Leathergoods Leaping Out At You in Stairwells/Entanglements & Possible Stranglings,” actually a brand-new category.
Yes, very wise. Perhaps they should come with a government health warning.
—and someone asked me the other day: ‘have you any holiday plans this year’?
Christina (Cockermouth)
Yes, indeed! We are very lucky living where we do. Cockermouth is beautiful.