Messing about on the river.

Today we awoke to an Autumn mist, which by mid morning had burned off to reveal a gloriously hot Summer day.  After our chores and a bit of shopping, we headed into the woods and straight for the whispering water.  There we spent the rest of the day, messing about on the river. Just paddling about..

watching the dappled sunlight play on the water and leaves...

... playing with bark boats - we wondered if the Acorn boys and Hazel were on this one -

...and, of course, no day on the river is complete without a spot of fishing. 

A perfect way to spend the afternoon.

And we found some treasure for our Autumn nature table.

There are more Nature Table posts at The Magic Onions every Friday. Sail over on our bark boat and see.

Wandering into the world.

Here I stand at in the doorway to my elder son's bedroom. It is bittersweet moment as I look at the tidy shelves, empty surfaces and spotless floor.The walls are bare, for now his posters hand on a different wall. He has moved out. - into the world - into his second year of studying chemistry at university - into a flat with three of his friends.

 Now his feet will wander the same streets as the young Sean Connery. He is a city boy now. How did this happen? Time is such a strange thing - as I stood on his new doorstep it felt as if nineteen years had passed like a sonic boom.
His little brother will miss him.  I will miss him - his sense of humour and playfulness, his calm reassuring presence, those huge, unexpected bear - hugs that swept me off my feet, and yes - maybe even those wet towels on the bedroom floor :)

Visit Gardenmama and see where everyone is wandering this week.

Sunday Morning Meditation

I awoke early, before anyone else this morning. On the rare occasions this happens, I normally sigh deeply and snuggle back down, but today I felt drawn to the peace and stillness of this Sunday morn.  It was already warm in the sun, but with just that hint of sharpness in the air - the next season waiting in the wings.
I had a leisurely wander around the garden with my camera, trying to capture the late summer feeling - and it is, still summer - for just a little while.
I watched the hens devouring their breakfast - their bright red combs bobbing up and down.  Further along on the lavender hedge, a bumble bee was already hard at work, gathering the winter stores.

 I pass apple and plum trees laden with fruit - ready to be preserved for our own winter storecupboard.

 Garlic is already strung up in bunches to dry, and I stop to pick a tangle of french beans for our Sunday lunch.  The rowan berries are abundant this year - I always mean to make some rowan jelly, but never get around to it.  Maybe this year - surely the birds won't miss a few?

 Our sunflowers are late this year - nonetheless welcome for that.  I love the burnished colour of this one - still making up her mind whether to bloom or not - I think she will.  Purple podded peas hang on the vine, where they will dry and later be shelled into jars for winter use, and I stop by a drift of heady sweet peas and bright cornflowers - still enough for a jug or two yet.

Tomatoes drip off the vines - a daily harvest.  These plum tomatoes are loving this sunny weather and will ripen soon enough - plenty of time.  As I walk back down the path, shy violet peeps out - "I'm here" she whispers.  The herb beds by the conservatory door are bursting with seeds, soon to be saved in paper envelopes for another garden next year.

I sit down on the step, mug of tea in hand and watch the swallows cavorting joyfully in this blue Sunday sky.
They are here, still...

Wandering Wednesday

Here I stand, barefoot on the grass, enjoying this warm late summer day.  I have just come out of the greenhouse with a harvest of tomatoes and squash, and paused to admire the hydrangea.  This gorgeous bush is abundant with huge blooms - blue, pink and mauve just now, but Autumn will fade them to old red and finally turn to a parchment-like transparency in Wintertime. I cut fresh flowers now, and use the large leaves on cheese-boards and fruit platters and later I pick faded heads to dry for Christmas wreaths and decorations.

Most of my wanderings today were between garden and kitchen.  We are back on the Mainland for a few weeks, and the garden here is burgeoning with ripe produce. Our hunger today was satisfied from this very soil.

Lunch was a quick courgette (zucchini) bruschetta. We haven't had quite the glut of courgettes we have in the past - but enough to keep us going.  This is a favourite recipe which I usually serve on pasta, but it is equally nice on a thick slice of country bread.
Slowly slowly sizzle the courgettes (sprinkled with a little salt) and chopped cloves of garlic to taste in a glug of olive oil, until they soften and start to break up and look more oily than watery. Pour off excess oil (keep it to use another time if there is enough)
Throw in some parmesan and a splash of cream.  Serve on warm  soft buttered toast, or you could toast it in the oven sprinkled with olive oil.
Grab a piece for yourself first, because hungry boys and husbands soon polish it off.

Later in the afternoon, I wandered down to the plot, basket on arm, to see what was suggested for our evening meal.  There has been a terrific crop of garlic - large bulbs of rosy pink juicy cloves.  Many of the lettuce we had planted here has either gone to seed, or is very expectant looking.  I pulled a couple of Cos heads that looked as if they were headed for the sky.  But what to do with an overblown lettuce?  Lettuce soup of course - with peas - yes!  We have a great crop of peas too - quite the best I have grown.  They are a rare heritage variety called Champion of England.  Despite the name, I am thrilled with them.  Can one be thrilled with a pea? Why not - they are sweet and perfect and the pods are mostly full of shiny regular green pearls.  They are very tall, however, and they did pull the netting over as they grew, so stronger supports next time. Back up to the kitchen.

Lettuce and pea soup
Sweat an onion (or any allium really - shallots, leeks, scallions) and garlic cloves to taste in olive oil until soft and transparent.
Add 8 oz (ish) of shredded lettuce and as many peas as you like (frozen would be fine too).  When the lettuce has wilted, add your stock of choice ( veg, marigold, or chicken)
Bring to the boil for a minute or two and then blend.
Add cream if you feel so inclined and serve with croutons.  I used the left over courgettey/garlicy oil from lunch to toast the croutons with.
This is the last week Gardenmama is hosting Wandering Wednesday.  I have so enjoyed taking part in this photo challenge.  I never knew where my wanderings would take me, even as I posted the photograph.  It has been a moving meditation.  Where will you go this week?

Island garden

A close up of my favourite lettuce 'Freckles' - one of the few things we have planted in our new garden.  There is quite a lot of space, but so different from our garden on the mainland.  All the ground is at the front and to one side of the plot - facing south west - which is good for the sun, but not for the full frontal south-westerly gales we have been assured we will see in the winter.

And a lack of workable soil (hence the bag of compost in the picture), means we are having to start small.  Our predecessor was an elderly bachelor who didn't have a lot of time for kitchen or ornamental gardening, and according to one of his nephews (although everyone we meet seems to be his niece or nephew) he used to bulk out his meagre soil with chipped glass from old  car windscreens.  We had already discovered this.  Anyway - we have begun, and some salads and herbs are already growing away, as well as some very late planted leek seedlings.  This will be a very large sheltered and hopefully productive bed once it has been cleared.

Down at the bottom of the garden, we have some willow and a crab apple which seem to be doing a sterling job keeping the worst of the wind at bay.  I have a feeling that finding the ultimate windbreak will be the dominant feature of our gardening and crofting lives here. 

We have already added to the shelter belt -  three different types of escallonia, which we have been assured will be as high as the fence within 2 years, and a couple of hydrangea, just because they are my favourite flowers.  There are a few really good garden centres and nurseries on the island, and it seems sensible to use plants which have been raised here.  There is also plenty of rope to be gleaned  freely from the beaches, so we can tie the plants down securely.

A couple of views up and down the drive.  There is already a fair amount of shelter in the form of self-coppiced willow, and the ubiquitous monbretia, which almost carpets the island.  We have already planted a couple of rowans (mountain ash) and copper beech, which are lost in there somewhere.  We hope to have a woodland area around the far edge of the plot, and maintain a meadow area with paths mown through.

Somewhere too there are blackcurrants and gooseberries in there, so they will be rescued, and the compost bin is already well established.   It is a work in progress, as all gardens are.  And  we have 2.5 acres of croftland  to work too!
All in good time - I will post pictures of that project soon.  In the meantime, we are back down on the Mainland for about a month to see Kenneth safely moved into his first flat (apartment), celebrate Kristine's 21st, visit Mum, who is failing quite a bit, and catch up with everyone and everything else, including the garden here.

Beach Art

We are holding on to Summer as tightly as we can.  Every day gifts different wonders for us, here on our beach.  Today we were in an artful mode, as we played with our seaside treasures. Water, weed, sand and stones - just right for all sorts of sensory creations.

Inspired by Friday's Nature Table at The Magic Onions.

Wandering Wednesday

Here I stand, again on the beach, with my husband and younger son. Our feet glow in a stream of water, turned to amber by the peat it has flowed through on its way to the sea.

This stream is a transient one - here one day and gone the next, sculpted by the Atlantic breakers that sweep into this bay, heaping sand and stones into ever-changing patterns.

The stream flows down from the hills and carves out its path anew with every tide.  Today it is wide and meandering, with deep pools of warm golden water.

We too change the shape and flow of this stream  - playing in and around the banks.  A little push here, a scoop of sand there, a run and jump there. 

With our every move around this fragile fluid world, we alter it in some way, and the repercussions can be seen further down - the water flows differently, or a sand ledge appears.  I think of that quote which reminds us to "take only memories, leave only footprints" In our wanderings, let us take care that our footprints are light.

Many thanks to Nicole from Gardenmama, who hosts Wandering Wednesday on her beautiful blog.  Join her and other wandering women from around the world, all with the gentlest of footsteps.