Three Seasonal Things #4

My oak tree finally turns; long shadows; art teacher’s earrings

Something a bit magical happened in the comments section of last week’s ‘Three Seasonal Things’: beautiful images of your weeks, painted in words. We had: the glow of a bonfire over the sea making one reader’s daughter’s hair look like wavy rivers of gold; Cananda geese circling over stubby cornfields in Wisconsin; windfall apples plucked from wet orchard grass and turned into spiced apple jelly and then eaten on hot buttered toast on a rainy afternoon; bare branches against a pale evening sky, blue with a hint of pink; the silver shine of southern California sidewalks after a long longed-for rain.

I read this all grinning, what poetry. Suffice to say that if you noticed/did/smelt/ate something that felt particularly of this moment in the past week, it is extremely welcomed here.

Here’s mine:

My oak tree finally turns

A good few years ago when the kids were little, I briefly had the energy to sit on my local common’s Friend’s Committee, and in that time, we raised some money to plant some trees. We were each allowed to choose a tree and a spot where it should be planted, and - unable to resist shooting for posterity - I chose an oak and a big open space. No sweet little crab apple in a corner for me, I wanted a grand old oak, one day.

Incredibly, here it is, already looking remarkably like a proper tree. It was one of the last trees in the park to get leaves in spring, and here it is following through and being one of the last to turn colour, just as everything around it is turning bare.

Long shadows

The earth, tilted on its axis, continues to travel around the sun, the northern hemisphere being twisted increasingly away from the sun until the winter solstice in a month’s time. And this is the result. Long shadows like a late summer’s evening but in the bright of the day.

Art teachers’ earrings

Every time I see spindle, Euonymus europaeus, I am reminded of my art teacher in secondary school, who dressed… well, like an art teacher and who I could almost swear had these or something very similar as earrings. They are such an unlikely colour in the British autumn countryside, and they have emerged as everything is turning dun coloured. Very shortly these cases will pop open, and the orange seeds will dangle down. So striking.

I hope it goes without saying but I would LOVE to hear what you have spotted this week. Reading your comments has become a real highlight of the week for me and thank you so much for joining in.

And a quick note to remind you that my book, The Almanac 2023 is out now and is all about celebrating the seasons. It makes a brilliant Christmas present. Find it here.