There is such a thing as Cloudberries

There is such a thing as cloudberries.
Who knew!
Berries like little amber clouds and they grow in Norway!

Last month I took part in a nature swap organised by  A butterfly in my hair (she is full of good ideas like that!). Names were chosen randomly and it turned out that V and I were each others "swappers".

Such a lovely surprise to hear a package drop through the letterbox. A parcel full of nature treasures and a handwritten note. With postage marks from Norway on it.

The shell and stone are from the north of Norway and the other pieces are from V's garden. The petals I can't stop sniffing and V suggested putting them in a cup of herbal tea (But I think they smell too nice for that! Maybe I will save them for a special goldeny Autumn afternoon cup of tea). The soap is made from cloudberries. (First time I ever heard of cloudberries!) The two postcards of girls with flowers are a lovely take on the nature theme - one of them is by an amazing Norwegian artist, Kirstin Vestgard.

Go raibh míle maith agat (thank you!) V

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. 

Lets go for a walk down the bog road

the bog road...

 walking amid tree shadows...

 past a deserted house...

and some wild flowers...

In his mind, his fields become presences;

The feel of their colours, the brace of their walls

Have greened his mind and tempered his heart.

For the Farmer ~ by John O'Donohue

Fluich agus scamallach. Wet and cloudy.

Listening to the aimsir (weather in Irish) on the radio. The words fluich agus scamallach mentioned more than a few times. And the same squelchy sounding words heard for the weather forecast for the coming weekend. Fluich agus scamallach walking - with a yellow umbrella - a wish for sunshine!

Rain painting, painting rain

Many walks this July with raincoat always on and hood always up. Feet getting sprinkled with raindrops walking through tall grasses. Ears attuned to sounds of millions of drops falling through leaves. For the eyes, a palette of greys, greens and hay coloured grasses. Soft tones because the sun is hiding.

July

PJ and Piscín

A farmer and a cat he rescued as a kitten. Her name is Snowball, though she was more of a dainty Snowflake when found - they all call her Piscín - West of Ireland Irish for kitten.

When Snowball was a little Snowflake.