autumn feelings

Autumn means darkening days, finding cosy spaces to curl up with a book, lights on, comforting food (cinnamon buns and porridge with maple syrup, flecked with mixed spice). Grey skies on my morning walk and that sudden sense of bleakness that comes when the leaves fall, although there is the occasional splash of berries to brighten the way. It's cold and windy and I'm thinking about the sloes up the lane. There's a good bounty this year, so that means gin, which bring me back to cosy spaces...

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.

walking

Last weekend we went walking by the sea. We chose an easy 4km or so loop which brought us to the Cooley peninsula near Carlingford. We passed golden fields and oyster shell strewn beaches. The distant purple hued mountains kept a quiet eye on us. It was warm. And we only had one mutinous child about half way along. Our trail started and ended at Lily Finnegan's pub, which by the time we got back there was thankfully open... never had the packet of Tayto crisps and glass of Bulmers tasted so good!

light, dark

Rooftops caught in evening light. Last week we ate out at our favourite local restaurant after a difficult day (autism is a tough task master). And, just for a few minutes, the sun gilds the chimney pots and weather vane of the town and from our vantage point we get to enjoy it.

Sunrise. I am out walking early. This time of the morning brings me peace. Just the dogs and birds for company. I love the contrast between light and shadow. Bright, dark. Good days, not-so-good days. All parts of the same story.

Parenting is a tough gig. The difficult times are there when you wake and when you go to sleep. Likewise the good times, it has to be said, but they are the easy days. It's the hard days that make you wonder at yourself and I wish, wish, WISH I hadn't lost the instruction booklet that tells you how to do it properly.

"friendship," said Christopher Robin, "is a very comforting thing to have"

It's not often you get the feeling you've been adopted. Yet that's exactly what this young robin has chosen to do. He flies to the backdoor every morning, flitting at the glass 'til we open up. A flutter of wings and he's in, perching on the kitchen lights and then hopping to the dresser while a quick kitchen survey lets him know if breakfast is ready. He'll eat from the boys' hands and in return we get soft trills of robin song. In the garden, if we eat outdoors, he finds us quickly and steals from our plates. The dogs do not bother him and he is curious enough to check out any visitors calling to the house. So, a new family member and his name ~ Christopher.

the lightest touch

The lightest touch of autumn is upon us. In the morning, through the open bedroom window, it is the call of the crows that wake me, my feathered reminders of a season's shifting. Out walking I pass fog-catching cobwebs dangling glinting water droplets. I have already spied mushrooms in the grass verges. The hedges too are changing. The berries are beginning to ripen and leaves are already turning. However most days the fog clears and we are left with enough warmth to know it's not truly autumn, not just yet.

holidays

Somehow August has eluded me. We spent the first half of the month in Co. Antrim along the coast, beside the sea where, possibly, every good childhood holiday happens. We happened to be lucky with the weather although when I look back on the photos there are lots of waterproof jackets and darkly looming skies. It was one of the busiest holidays we've had, every day brought a new adventure and we found plenty of things to do. My favourite days out included picnicing on the Strand at Portstewart where the boys swam and then going on to walk at Downhill and Mussenden Temple which is perched on the cliff edge with the most fantastic views on to the beach below. At Cushendall we walked the cliff path to picnic at the church at Layd, another favourite day out, as was visiting HMS Caroline a WW1 light cruiser and now the sole survivor of the Battle of Jutland. There were picnics on the beach, ice-cream every day, forest walks and brunches in the walled garden at Glenarm Castle and a trip to Ulster Folk and Transport Museum. The days flew by and suddenly it was time to come home and return to work and here we are - the final week of summer holidays... The uniforms are ready, the school books are bought and the pencils are sharpened and yet all I long for is the crash of waves on the shore and the tang of seaweed in the air...