Crowcombe in August
A garden in between
Dartmoor in September
This shift from August to September is one of my favourite times, especially out on the hills..the purple and green of heather, the yellow (and scent!!) of the gorse, the light spikes and smear of grasses, and the changing skies. And there’s something about knowing that these places have gone through all this since they began, and you’re only catching a part of it.
We walked up high, and the mist came over..Lying in bed in the evening, I could feel it still there in my body, the mist, the earth, the smell of coconut and green, time turning..
Something about the hint of autumn wakes me up (I think it’s supposed to do the opposite..?!) But the warm of summer feels to me like incubation…when autumn comes the ideas seem to spring up and fall out like the falling leaves, and I run about collecting them!
I’ve been studying for a diploma in horticulture over the past year, hence my lack of postage! It’s been exciting to find myself somewhere new but somehow familiar at the same time. My eyes are always drawn to the wild places, and the smallest details of things. Being near to plants, nature, and growing things is what makes me write songs and words, what helps me recover and re-boot. And now I’m studying those things more closely, and I’m loving all of it!
I hope that looking through a lens or writing about these things will feel even more connected, in the same way that knowing about a person helps a portrait? I’m excited to find out.