‘A wind has blown the rain away and blown
the sky away and all the leaves away,
and the trees stand. I think I too have known
autumn too long’
I can say with some legitimacy that E.E Cummings is one of the handful of men who have my heart. Well, handful is a bit much- we’re basically talking my Dad, my Man and then E.E. Cummings. But he is up there.
I wasn’t quite sure what constituted the grand title of ‘orchard’… till I googled it.
Turns out its ‘a group of fruit or nut tree’s in an enclosed space’, rendering the term orchard a bit more loose and less grandiose than we are first inclined to assume. AND SO, I spent a portion of the weekend picking apples from my friends very own grand spanking- three tree strong- orchard.
With the changing of the seasons comes a change in the sorts of adventures and encounters with the wild we might have. Days get impossibly short and the rains get determinedly prolific.
This is no excuse however not to dick about on a row boat at every opportunity that presents itself prior to the river turning to ice.
It’s a sweet thing to be surrounded by creatives. One of my favourites just launched an online mag of note, Conteu: a space that ‘honours the thinkers, celebrates the makers and inspires the adventurers.’ Amen to that. Here’s an excerpt of some musings I gave them for their first edition…
It’s all gotten a little wild back here.
In the wake of our enthusiastic ‘plant-germinate-get them outside-repeat’ mantra we’ve got ourselves in to a bit of a greenhouse ruckus.
The door won’t shut.