Autumn Equinox has passed and the season is changing. The rhythm of our lives subtly changes too. Falling into line. By stealth, stealing our evenings and refocusing our activities.
I still sit out on our swinging bench each evening, after shutting the hens away, but not so long. Even the dogs head back to the kitchen, rather than settling on the damp grass. Who can blame them?
This week I started to collect the apple windfalls. It will be a couple more weeks for the main crop, but I cannot resist taking the odd eating apple straight from the tree. Slightly sharp, but full of flavour.
It won’t be long before the family expect homemade apple pies, readily available in the fridge again. It is autumn after all.
The tomatoes are cropping. Tigerellas. More ripen every day. My evenings are spent processing and putting away yummy meals for the colder months.
I do love all the red garden goodies at this time of year.
The garden visitors are changing too. The swifts are starting to group before they head back to Africa. The garden warblers are no longer visiting our fennel. They must have set out on the journey already.
The bats have moved on to their autumn roost in the woods. I miss their evening flight. It does mean we can repair that part of the roof. They will be back to their maternity roost in our attic, come spring, so the builders have strict instructions not to seal it up.
The children are settled back into the rhythm of school. After school clubs are reinstated. They each have two music lessons and should have one sport but we are still to agree on a sporty activity for the two older ones. We’ll get there.
I’m starting to tutor in maths this autumn. An exciting change. Setting it up and adding it into the rhythm of our week.
And finally, I am back to knitting. Challenging myself to finish so many centimetres per evening. I want to be ready for Christmas this year. Hopefully, homemade goodies to gift.
I revel in the rhythm of the year. No point in booking out a week to sow or harvest, on a wall planner. Just the vague outlines of spring or autumn. Nor time marked out to turn the harvest into preserves. When the time is right, it is right.
The rhythm has changed and brings exciting times with it. I’ll miss the summer, but I can enjoy the memories. Even if it’s only via photos or completing a few crafting projects.
(work in progress – needlefelting project)