Short days and frosty nights. A coolness of light. The quietness of time spent observing, being aware, noticing the beauty in every tiny moment. I am knitting a sock on tiny needles with rustic 4 ply wool rough against my finger tips.
Ice crystals slide down the window glass.
Letting all the pieces come together. Allowing space. Being quiet. Feeling stillness. Resting.
Hello Autumn you beautiful harvest season of misty mornings, long nights and mellow fruitfulness. We surrender to crisp leaves crackling underfoot, the zing of cold air sharp in our lungs and the soothing, cosseting bliss of wrapping ourselves in layers upon layers of natural, hand knitted wool, silk, cashmere, alpaca . . .
All is on the wane here; the long grass falls dry and soft yellow, sunlight is dimmed in the morning, the wind is colder. At the same time the bramble berries are bursting with plump ripeness and the Rowan berries shine red in the twilight as crows squawk in delight at them. We fall into …
Deer rush down from the mountains of Harris and the broad swathes of moorland drawn by the fresh, new growth of grass to soar over fences. And so it is with us humans. Deep inside we run with the deer; we too feel the machair sap rising and in the rhythm of the tide, the …
Winter: quiet contemplation
Quiet contemplation and contentment.
Short days and frosty nights. A coolness of light. The quietness of time spent observing, being aware, noticing the beauty in every tiny moment. I am knitting a sock on tiny needles with rustic 4 ply wool rough against my finger tips.
Ice crystals slide down the window glass.
Letting all the pieces come together. Allowing space. Being quiet. Feeling stillness. Resting.
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Autumn feelings
Hello Autumn you beautiful harvest season of misty mornings, long nights and mellow fruitfulness. We surrender to crisp leaves crackling underfoot, the zing of cold air sharp in our lungs and the soothing, cosseting bliss of wrapping ourselves in layers upon layers of natural, hand knitted wool, silk, cashmere, alpaca . . .
Autumn: grasses fall, we slumber, cosy
All is on the wane here; the long grass falls dry and soft yellow, sunlight is dimmed in the morning, the wind is colder. At the same time the bramble berries are bursting with plump ripeness and the Rowan berries shine red in the twilight as crows squawk in delight at them. We fall into …
Inspiration: running with the deer
Deer rush down from the mountains of Harris and the broad swathes of moorland drawn by the fresh, new growth of grass to soar over fences. And so it is with us humans. Deep inside we run with the deer; we too feel the machair sap rising and in the rhythm of the tide, the …