This evening’s sunset (October 31st) marks the start of Samhain, an ancient Celtic festival that waves farewell to the harvest season and prepares for the darker half of the year – but more about that in my next post. In the meantime, before the sun goes down on autumn, here are a few of my favourite things about this season. The leaves, their blaze of colour while still on the trees; the whirl and swirl as they tumble to the ground, catching in your hair, softly brushing your cheek on their way down. Kicking through mounds of brown, almost transparent leaves along the street listening to the rustling and the brittle crunch underfoot.
Orchards filled to bursting with apples and pears and peaches and plums, boughs creaking and bowed low under the weight of their harvest. That first luscious mouthful of the fruit you just picked fresh off the tree.
Sweet and floury roasted chestnuts, dark and shiny conkers, happy orange pumpkin patches, pumpkin soup and pumpkin lanterns.
Misty mornings and dew-soaked grass, great big bowls of soup filled with exotic flavours that chase away autumn chills.
Hedgerow foraging, berries plump with juice, purple-stained fingers and lips, jams and chutneys bubbling on the stove filling the house with sweet and spicy scents.
I adore this time of year, but how about you? Have you fallen under autumn’s enchantment? If you would like to join in this week’s travel theme by creating your own autumnal post (everyone’s welcome!) here’s what to do:
- Create your own post and title it Travel theme: Autumn
- Include a link to this page in your post so others can find it too
- Get your post in by next Thursday, as the new travel theme comes out on Friday
- Don’t forget to subscribe to keep up to date on the latest weekly travel themes. Sign up via the email subscription link in the sidebar or RSS!
xxx Ailsa
The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves. – John Muir
Autumn is a second spring, when every leaf is a flower. – Albert Camus
Where's my backpack? 