Week 46

Dawn; a river runs through it (the park path); meadow-in-waiting

Hello and welcome to my weekly post where together we track the minutiae of the week. After the gentlest hint of Christmas last week, well…the floodgates have opened! It is all Gluhwein drinking, limoncello bottling and gingerbread baking these days, and some sort of prize should surely go to Rachael who has eaten this weekly post’s first mince pie of the season - a fancy cranberry and orange one no less. We declare mince pie season officially open!

Before we begin, I just thought I would mention that earlier this week I made and posted a video round up of November, with lots of my own thoughts about the atmosphere and energies of this particular month, lots of the sort of stuff I know you are all interested in, but with a bit more of a contemplative, personal spin than my previous films. It is for paid subscribers, but you can always try a free 7-day trial if you fancy giving it a try. Do pop over and watch.

Let’s begin. You can join in for next week’s by leaving comments about what has made your week feel particularly ‘this week’ in the comments at the bottom of this post, which I will then render into a pretty word poem for next week. Everyone is welcome.

Here’s your Week 45:

Cosy evenings by the fire knitting and dreaming of Christmas, candles ablaze and winter spiced tea in hand

The yellowest yellow - the magnificent gingko biloba tree

Every tea coming bubbling from the oven or the stove top

The fallow, sloped fields between my cottage and the sea, brown earth ploughed into neat patterns

Waking to witness the magical meeting of the crescent moon and Venus in the night sky

A stash of Almanacs arriving for friends’ Christmas presents - feeling smug and virtuous [Ed. No I did not cheat and slip this in! How dare you… Actual real life comment!]

The stunning colours of autumn bramble leaves, brighter than any acer

Three of us in the quiet Friday office kitchen watching the leaves fall from the trees outside as night fell too, over fresh cuppas

Hanging string lights over our windows because of how dark it is after work, and now it feels so cosy

The first of those bright yellow stars of winter jasmine flowers in the back garden, they will keep flowering until the yellow of the forsythia flowers in March

Prepping homemade limoncello for gifts and making lists

A batch of cranberry speckled gingerbread granola, filling the house with the aroma of molasses, ginger and cinnamon

A liquidambar which glows as if on fire

Noticing that our beautiful Acer ‘Osakazuki’ was still green…and then two days later it was a beautiful gold

Gazing at the moon and stars in the early morning whilst getting ready for work

The first mince pie: cranberry and orange

My November sketchbook filling with the warm tones of autumn, vibrant, glistening rose hips, tree skeletons and teasels

Dark evenings pierced by the calls of the coyotes and barred owls

A sore throat (ugh) and yummy ginger and mint tea (yay)

Drinking the very first Gluhwein (Germany is right on the brink of Christmas)

Extremely festive, while also very autumnal. Just generally an extremely cosy week.

Here’s my Week 46:

Dawn

I am delighted to report that my morning walk now coincides with dawn. I was once told by someone very wise that one of the things that unites a great number of indigenous people around the world are rituals to greet the sun each morning. It struck me as spiritual but also so very practical, taking this step to physically reaffirm your place in the world each morning, to remind yourself of where you are in the cosmos, of how it all works, of the whole stunning, unbelievable mechanics of the thing.

I try to get up to this high field each morning to get a bit of that, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen the sun rise here since last winter. I always make myself think about what it is, the orbiting and spinning, and this made that clearer somehow. I also did a little finger measurement of the distance of the rising sun from a little hilltop clump of trees, so that I can see the coming of the solstice with my own eyes.

A river runs through it (the park path)

Some days it has been clear as a bell and beautiful sunrises and some days it has been lashing with rain, so much so that it turns the path into a stream.

Meadow-in-waiting

Though of course I love a meadow in full swing in high summer, I also love this, the pattern of all of the plants waiting through winter to spring back up. Such variety.

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That’s it from me. Don’t forget if you are Christmas shopping that my book The Almanac 2024 makes a lovely present for all sort of people, even - perhaps especially - the awkward ones, and is really quite small and neat enough to fit into a stocking. You can buy it via the links here.

Please also do consider leaving it a review, if you already have it.

But most importantly please do leave me your comments. What have you seen/admired/sniffed/baked/visited this week that has made it feel particularly ‘this week’?