Weaving among gold

Golden Mornings. Golden evenings. But each one arriving and departing with a hint of chill mist and dew. "Ginny-joes" (otherwise known as dandelion clocks) floating everywhere, alighting anywhere (in my hair, on the leaves, before flying away again). Warm colours beginning to tint the leaves, sighing a more rustle-y whisper when the wind blows through. September. With your pools of gold.

Coffee with a friend at favourite cafe, among trees, where they have piles of woollen blankets to keep you warm.

Octobering

October is leaving with a smile (sun shining) and a hug (warm breezes). So mild the window is open. No need to have the radio on with sounds coming through the window from outside; wind rattling leaves, a neighbour over the wall raking his garden. They are in tune with my paintbrush rattling in a jar of water.

Happy last day of October - thank you for your colours and fruits and berries and your leaves that accompanied me everywhere - swirling down into my hair, crunching underfoot, sticking to tyres, whooshing in the door.

PS. Above: a painting that hopefully soon will be available as a print.
PPS. More Octobering 

Spring-ing. Hello April.

 

  

 

April is arraying herself in Spring loveliness. Hints and whispers of green... chestnut baby leaves unfurling. Small speckles underfoot... dainty Spring flowers dotting highways and byways. Overhead, frills and flounces of blossoms. Shy and brave at the same time.

First lunch eaten out in the garden where I saw a butterfly flutterby. And ladybirds surprising me in unexpected corners (one in my bedroom!).

And at the beginning and end of each day the birdsong - like the "key to the morning and the latch of the evening."



"key to the morning and the latch of the evening." - Ghandi

Little Autumn. Fómhair beag.

Evening mellow light. Scarf needed now for nippy air.

 Underfoot crunchiness as sound accompaniment

 Feathers falling from a bird's duvet in the trees above

A little umbrella for rain shelter

More little Autumns here.

Wedding bouquet

Flowers for a friend's wedding. Her favourite flowers, she told me, are Peonies and Daffodils. They do not bloom together in July - but on my painting desk they grow at the same time ;) Oak tree leaves (the tree for July, (13th June-10th July in Irish folklore), symbolises protection, keeper of the woods and all that dwell therein like deer). Ginny-joes: blow and make a wish. Many Ginny-joes: blow to make many happy wishes for her and her husband.

Swaying like the long grasses

Early morning walk. Stepping through grass touching my knees. Swishing of the long grass as a sound accompaniment.

 Rustling leaves above join in for the harmony.

 Swishing and rustling.

And for the evening walk, the grass still swaying in a golden light. Were they swaying all day?

February, 28 skies come and gone (where do they go?)

February skies. Soft and blue and misty. Fringed with branches beginning to bud pinkly pale and unfurl leaves greenly. Then, for a few days, cold skies filled with flurries of snow.  Lengthening light in the evenings and soft sunsets at February's end.

Changes afoot, underfoot

Every day, a new leaf painting underfoot.

Downward looking

It's hard to not not look down while out walking the past few days. Changes underfoot every few steps.  Here, yellow speckles of Lime tree leaves on tarmac. There, papery pink Sycamore polka dots. Then, curvy oak leaves making splashes of burnt sienna. Sometimes scattered, sometimes mixing all together. Sometimes spattered on green grass, sometimes scattered on navy tarmac.

Above, blackberries and "jinny-joes" for a belated September birthday. Now to unwrap a slice of the belated birthday cake from tin-foil and put the kettle on!

Septembering

These past few days, golden leaves speckling the footpaths, decorating my walks. Not many yet, just hints, but every day a few speckles more.

Beginnings and ends of days cooler. The trees and birds and air are quieter and more still - as if remembering to prepare for their Winter sleep to come.

During the days, sunny with blue skies and delicate wispy ribbons for clouds - September hasn't quite cast off August yet and I can still bring my cup of tea outdoors.

So cute to see the little girls and boys starting school for the first time yesterday with their brand new schoolbags and uniforms. 

Above, a couple of illustrations from a children's book  I illustrated a while back. 

Nollaig Shona. Christmas greetings.

Wreaths of leaves, red berries and ribbons fluttering on doors. Cosy cups of warm and sweet - gingerbread, cinnamon, orange and cloves. Twinkling lights, glistening through the shortest days and longest nights of the year.

Quietly Novembering

Quiet colors outside- soft greys and browns and subdued greens. Here and there tints of gold leaves twirling down like yellow paper snowflakes, patterning the dark path underfoot. The trees are quiet too, with their arms folded and eyes closed. Quiet colours inside too, like candlelight.

Sycamore Tryst

The Sycamore leaves. Always whispering, always sighing. Sometimes lively, sometimes softly. If she listens with her soul ears more than her bodily ears, they share their secrets.

Breezes and Hawthorns

It is lovely to have breezes again after a month of stillness. Playing with my hair, whispering and sighing through the leaves. 

Happy movement and gentle sound - welcome back mild south-westerlies!