Even though the year flows continuously through its seasonal changes, it is spring and autumn that I think of as the months of transition. Everything seems to shift and the feeling of settling and drawing inwards that autumn brings is as pronounced as the bright uprising and awakening that we sense in spring.
Who could fail to love the fierce brightness of autumn leaves?
Yet as autumn progresses and the branches become increasingly bare, it is the softness of the landscape that captivates me. The fields smudged in pastel hues, the full, soft blues and greys of the skies and the warm low light that all at once dampens the glare of the world, yet infuses that on which it falls with a subtle kind of vibrancy.
As autumn progresses to winter and nature appears to be sleeping, there is still flashes of life, young leaves enjoying a brief flush before their frozen slumber begins.
Nettles can be seen in all their life stages. Many have died already, others are grown tall, sparse and straggly and yet where they have been cut back, there is plenty of new growth to be seen, a last little reminder of what we can look forward to when the Earth wakes again.
Poets and artists often depict autumn and winter as a time of death, but to me they are merely times of passage, when the old is let go and the new remains contained for a time in its gestation.
When we learn to look closely, the sweet song of life is always humming underneath.
Beautifully written 🙂 xxx
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Thank you Julie. x
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You certainly have a way with words.
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Thanks for your kind comment.
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Just beautiful. You have such a way of evoking the sensations of a season – both in your words and your photos! I know just what you mean about the soft, subtle beauty of this time of year. Lovely to see your photos of the Downs!
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Is it looking quite wintery in Cornwall now? I imagine with the sea winds everything is quite bare. Enjoy the beginnings of winter, I can’t believe it is December in a couple of days! xxx
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So enjoyed your pictures, Lucinda. “contained in gestation” perfect lyrical words for this time of year. Dylan, Lily and I had a long talk about how the trees are not dead. That all their energy is in their roots now, storing the energy for next years nuts, fruits, flowers and leaves, and gestation fits perfectly for what I was trying to convey to them. I can just imagine encountering a little fairy along that lovely tree canopied path you shared. lots of love xxx
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Yes I am sure there are faeries aplenty along that particular path. I haven’t seen one yet but I can sense their presence. 🙂
Your time with your grandchildren sounds so precious, It’s so wonderful that they have someone so wise to explain things to them.
Big hugs xx
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I forgot to share with you.. the picture you did of the tree in winter sheltering little creatures was part of the discussion 🙂 The children were so mesmerized, Lucinda. Especially Dylan (age 4). He said he had been worried about where the rabbits and mice would sleep when it snowed! love to you!
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I stood outside this evening in rare moonlight while rain slacked and thought how quiet it was. Wind and water, but an underlying quiet that I associate with winter, when, to me, everything is sleeping. Your description of gestation fits much better and now I have to go back outside.
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How beautifully described. It’s a kind of alive stillness isn’t it, a very special kind of quiet. It was full moon here last night and the world looked very peaceful and soft. x
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For me, there is almost a cycle. The awe of the beauty of the autumn leaves, The sadness when the trees lose their leaves and then the wonderful at the strange and wondrous forms the tree branches have without leaves.
Michael
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Yes, each part has its beauty doesn’t it, when we take the time to look and appreciate.
Enjoy your wintery wonderland across the water.
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