fruits of the earth

Autumn means different things to different people.

Summer is over and the sun has lost its strength, so every warm day seems like borrowed time and the chance to step out into the sunshine must be snatched whenever possible. Even in the twenty-first century, there’s still a feeling of Harvest Home: a desire to gather in and stock up, ready to weather the long winter ahead.
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berry bright

It seems that autumn is nearly upon us. Certainly the weather is no longer very summery. The rain is torrential and the gusting wind makes thinking almost impossible. Even when the wind chases the clouds away and allows the sun full rein [sic] there is little warmth in the sunshine.

But clearly there is enough warmth and sunshine to have started to ripen all the autumn berries, as I found on my walk today.
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maybe not

Yesterday I wrote about walking around the racecourse and ended the post with a photo of cow parsley. Today the top photo is a different umbellifer. I think it’s probably common hogweed, which I’m assuming might be a relation, as it’s also known as cow parsnip.

For those who haven’t made the connection, umbelliferous flowers are arranged on short stalks that radiate from a common point, like the ribs of an umbrella.
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fashion update, Easter 2020

Whether or not we have any religious interest, most people in the UK look forward to Easter for a variety of reasons. Perhaps the main one is the chance of a really long weekend – although more and more businesses work on Good Friday, having the weekend wedged between Bank Holidays makes for a four-day break for many, which can’t be bad.

And then, of course, there’s the chocolate. Those Easter eggs that have been so effectively filling the spaces on the supermarket shelves left by recent stock-piling. Personally, I can’t see the point of them – although the bright wrappers are pretty, a decent slab of chocolate is far more cost-effective.
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the path through the woods

I’m pretty sure I’ve said it before, but the local park is really rather lovely. It’s far more natural than the town parks I was brought up to, with their bright formal flowerbeds and low box-edged parterres. Although it’s tiny and it has a local council office in the middle, it still manages to boast a brook, a bluebell wood, a vast range of native, fruit, and ornamental trees, and lots of wild flowers.

Even the redbrick records office is set on the site of a ruin and surrounded by swathes of very apt forget-me-nots.
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