what it means

 

September. One of the most evocative words. It means nightsounds and darkness. Wood stacks and splitting timber. The heavy thud of the axe. It means blackberries, pies and jam. Tea, endless tea. Dark skies and shadowed fields. It means school. And hometime treats of bread and jam, hot chocolate and marshmallows and sitting outside while there's still light.

blackberries

Aren't sunny September days the best! The boys and I took advantage of a glorious afternoon and went blackberrying up the lane. Admittedly it's probably still a bit early for them and although we picked just under a pound of decent plump berries there were still plenty that needed ripening up. I froze the ones we picked as I want to make a few pots of jam and, my favourite, apple and blackberry curd, as well as some fruit crumbles. It's such an autumnal scent isn't it~that of blackberry jam puttering on the stove. And of course in time-honoured fashion the boys ate while they picked, often putting the best ones straight in to their mouths.

days like this

Last weekend we headed to the west coast of Ireland. It was one of those blissful September days with such welcome sunshine, all the more so as the days shorten and autumn creeps along. We made our way to the nearest beach. The tide was out and the rippling sands glistened as we walked and paddled in rock pools. The boys did their best to catch minute, black darting fish trapped in the warm puddles and we wished we had brought swimming costumes as the water looked so inviting and still. Even the small fishing boat puttering up the estuary towards Killala barely broke the peace.  It was blissful to feel the sun on our skin and to be in the company of loved ones (who looked after us so well) and to come home feeling refreshed and lucky indeed.

breathe

September, a month of new beginnings but also of endings. The nights are drawing in and the garden is slowing down, things are folding in on themselves. We too are folding in, we light the fire and read, we can't quite believe the early darkness, we spend less time outdoors. This is soul time, a little like hibernation but not quite. We please ourselves. We eat purple - roast beetroot, plums, blackberries. We watch cawing crows circle the tree tops, the autumn breeze on our faces, the mists in the morning, we slow our breaths and breathe in the earth.

September days

We are eating outside as much as we can. We drag the table and chairs, following the September sun, until we find a warm spot. This morning crumpets and syrup with our coffee, children and dogs never very far away. Knowing that the opportunities for outdoor eating will become more limited as the month progresses pushes us to take advantage when we can. Of course there is nothing nicer than an autumn picnic, scarves wrapped around necks, warm boots and coats, soup, sturdy sandwiches and cake, maybe Victoria sponge with hedgerow jam, with a long woodland walk to look forward to or perhaps the apple orchards around Ardress House?