season of sad thoughts

The season is shifting, bringing melancholy thoughts with it as summer slips away, the golden days recede, and nature resumes its tale of loss. Time to turn within and prepare to hunker down. Think comfort, nurture. Gathered bags of pine cones with a friend last week, getting ready for wood fires, anticipating cosiness. Pulled a woollen scarf from the wardrobe before taking a beach walk in the wind. Bought the last beef steak tomatoes, cracked and marked with late season hardship. Bought feijoas, sweet and juicy. Each season has its old parts, that wither and demand release. Each season also has its new energy, and its own treasure. I need to remember this, when I find myself resisting, wanting to hold on to the old season that is stomping on my knuckles, demanding release.

autumn creatures

A pair of black oyster catchers on the beach; one pulls up a leg, pretending injury. I sit on thick grass overlooking the sea and a black cricket hops on to my hand, waving its fine antennae. A million ants have invaded the bach loft, bringing a million tiny white eggs. They've infiltrated stored papers, boxes of art materials, even cassette tapes. Rats and mice start attempting to invade at this time of year but a black cat now prowls the land, leaving the old rodent corpse on the driveway. It's the creatures that signal the need to draw in and hunker down.

Last glow

Beginning of April (but posted a bit later)

This sandwiched warmth, between slices of cool morning and evening. Dry soil, not yet ready for seedlings. Clearing garden debris, making compost piles. Basking in pockets of evening sun. Flaring sunsets. Pumpkins and kumaras appearing, sweet Gala apples and packham pears, with bunches of grapes. Starting to think soup instead of salad. Inserting a top sheet under the duvet.

Autumn Equinox

Group ritual at Mana, as part of my workshop The Art of Ritual. As we wrote on yellow strips of paper, the things we were attached to about summer, I realised just how much I was holding on to! Things like eating outside, having the ranch sliders open all day, evening walks, summer salads . . . We let go of these attachments by dropping the strips of paper like autumn leaves into a woven basket.

Then we welcomed in autumn by sipping dark purple grape juice out of rock crystal glasses. Sweet autumn! I'd been resisting it, but now I felt glad it was here. It's time to turn inwards, to nurture the body, to find nourishment within.

More on autumn ripening

White butterflies appears out of nowhere to lay minute eggs under the leaves of the curly kale that was doing so well in the garden. I thought I was outwitting these white-winged flutterers when I tossed black netting over the plants. Not so! The next time I returned to the bach, I faced a row of skeleton kale. The few leaves that remained carried many fat green caterpillars, that hadn’t even bothered to hide on the underside.

What had happened? I decided that the netting, while not stopping the butterflies from getting through, had defeated the birds that came to feast on the caterpillars. I’ve whipped it off, removed those fat green feasters, and am hoping to see some new kale leaves on my next visit.

Autumn Ripening

What a rich time this is, as under the sustained heat of the sun, fruit and vegetables ripen into sweet lusciousness! This year I grew acid-free tomatoes, a variety that produces quite small fruit, but oh so red and firm. And they last, there in a blue bowl on my kitchen bench. Beefsteak tomatoes however, so bulging and juicy from the organic gardener up the valley from my bach, turn to mush pretty quickly. Last night I gathered up a bag-full and cooked them on the stove with a big squeeze of garlic juice. My house filled with the aroma of autumn. Now this delicious pulp sits in jars in fridge and freezer, waiting to be used in whatever dishes I concoct with autumn’s courgettes, capsicums and aubergines.

First Fruits

The high energy of summer is gently slowing down. People have been returning from their holidays and schools are about to resume. What a bountiful summer this has been, with so many sunny days surrounding Christmas and New Year. And now we approach the time of First Fruits, with berries ripening on our native trees and lush stone fruits – apricots, peaches, nectarines – abundant in the orchards.

As we contemplate this season of fruiting, we may be prompted to wonder about our own fruits of summer. What is it that you have gathered over the long summer days? What is it that you wish to hold and remember?

For me, it’s long evening walks by the sea, the pleasure of eating outside every day, and the soothing sensation of salt water dips in the sea. It’s also about the enjoyment of friends, good company, hanging out with others, laughing and relaxing.

I’ve been nurturing a new book through its final stages, ready for printing. This is like watching a beautiful fruit slowly swell and ripen. Yesterday I saw the cover image for the first time, and felt a thrill at the sense of imminent completion.

What is fruiting in you? What rewards are you experiencing after the hard work of the year just passed? Pause for a moment and appreciate your own self now. Appreciate the support of others, and what they contribute to your wellbeing. Give thanks for what is ripening in your life.