Wednesday ponderings . . .

 

With crimson vines and fading roses on cottage walls, one is half tempted to say that this is the best time of the year . . . this time of fruit and falling leaf, blue smoke and pearly haze.  Autumn's golden days of peace and fulfillment. 

Our days are book-cased with slow sunrises and grey-blue twilights, and in between nature's consolation to the heart, golden Crysanthemums.  The roses are fading, the dahlias droop, leaves are just blowing away. One might want to sorrow at what seems like desolation, ruin and decay . . .  but for the vivaciousness of the Crysanthemum, setting garden paths ablaze and lighting chill tainted rooms with their bold array of colour, brilliant and rich and bright . . .  ambers and lemons, bronze and copper, gold maroon and white.  They put on such a beautiful display.  

 

For me, this is the time of cosy . . . as the twilight deepens I get to enjoy sitting at the window looking out at the first stars pricking through the dusk. This is not something I am able to embrace in the summer months when the sun goes down long after I have.   

As the darkness drops down over the quiet fields, there is a certain comfort that comes from being able to draw the curtains and light the lamps.  There is a special and unique joy to be found in sitting in low rooms which are warm and cosy, accompanied by the music of the crackle and snapping of dry and blazing logs in the hearth. How good it is to once  more bathe in the soft glow of lamplight reflected in the gleam of polished oak cabinets and copper kettles . . . to once more light the candles and truly be able to appreciate the tranquility of light and spirit that they bring to any room.  

 

We see the Winter approaching . . . it is already tickling the edges of our days, but we are not yet ready to let go, there is still so much to left for us to enjoy, so much colour still to grasp. 

Live without colour. How drab it would be.  How grateful I am that God, the great artist of earth and sky, of land and sea, has created such a lovely thing as autumn, a world lovely with shadow and light, With each day's pictures being painted in tones light and bright, like coloured amber and sparkling jewels . . . 

I see the winter approaching without much concern though a

passionate  lover of fine weather and the pleasant scenes of summer.

But the long evenings have their comforts too; and there is hardly to be 

found upon the earth, I suppose, so snug a creature as an 

Englishman by his fireside, in the winter. I mean, however, an

Englishman that lives in the country.

~William Cowper, October 7th, 1783 

  

There is a sameness about the summer trees, when the forms of bole and bough are covered in heavy green leaf . . .  but in the autumn when the leaves begin to change and to fall, one is finally able to see the individuality of each tree, through their stark outlines which stand against the sky, their different colourings marked distinctly via leaf and seed . . .  their coloured leaves fluttering and dancing above their footsteps like a young girl's pettitcoats at her first ball. 

In the woods the oaks may still be green above the brown bracken,  but the birch tosses its yellow leaves into the wind, where they fly  . . .  slim and graceful amongst the solid masses of the fruited thorns. Lanes lined with beeches do take the breath away, the waning sunlight drawing the fire out of their bronze and coppery leaves, which seem to burn above the head and smoulder beneath your feet. 

Like Anne Shirley I want to shout loudly to all who would hear it . . .  "I am so glad that I live in a world of Octobers!"  Autumn truly is my favourite colour. 

 

 The Doctor went all over my back yesterday. He doesn't seem to think it is anything serious, as much as it might hurt. I just need to ride it through and hope that it gets better. He told me to take two paracetemal at a time up to 8 altogether in a day for the pain and gave me a sheet of exercises to do and I have an appointment booked with the Physiotherapist on the 24th of October, so in 8 days time.  He did say however, if all of a sudden I seemed to lose control of my bladder (a comforting thought) to go to the A&E right away.  Maybe the physiotherapist will send me for a scan to see what's what, or at least be able to help sort it out.  Finger's crossed. I don't mind saying that it is a bit depressing being in pain all the time.  It mostly hurts when I move, but I don't fancy a life where I must stay constantly still in order to be pain free. Getting out of bed in the morning is excruciating, but it does gradually get more bearable as the day progresses.

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
 *Your first thought in the

morning should be  . . . 

Thank you. •。★★ 。* 。 

 

In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Sticky Toffee Rice Pudding . . .  oh my goodness. Sigh . . .

Have a wonderful Wednesday!  Don't forget! 

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And I do too!