Dear bitty garden, How very swiftly plans for spiffying up a garden, even the tiniest of them, can turn to fiddle-dee-deeing. I blame those overcast skies and the great little pumpkin who’s always up for a photoshoot, twist my arm.
Do I have plans for you this season? Why of course I do. It’s my favorite time of the year, haven’t I mentioned? I think I may have once or twice. 😉
On my list is a large pot of mums which I hope to find at the outdoor farmers market just as last year. Somehow it makes meeting them all the more adventurous. Their color will have to surprise me because nothing this complicated is to be had in this little corner of our world. Choices are few, and in less than two years I’ve learned fewer is oh so much sweeter.
I hope to paint acorns and reattempt to photograph chestnuts which for some reason never want to focus. Or is it me that’s out of focus. Could be.
Oh, I know I have other to-dos on my autumn to-do, but don’t mind if I sit back and stretch my sip of orange mint a daydream or two longer than usual.
Perfect, absolute peace surrounds those whose imaginations are consumed with you.
I couldn’t resist a second serving of my spellbinding homemade wild rice soup, no forest mushrooms today but clouds parting after an entire week of overcast skies certainly counts as magic.
Antique Aqua, Soft Pumpkin and Yorkshire Tan, my colors of the season (names courtesy of Benjamin Moore), and it all started with a cup of soup. Softly, the tones came forth and blended all throughout September, mostly from the little kitchen window; a sunset sky, the great little pumpkin sitting on the windowsill against a gilded maple, glimpse after glimpse it was all working its magic. This is why I like to start autumn styling in September, on the very first of the month, little by little, un-rushed and savored. It all goes by much too quickly (already some of the trees here are completely bare), and colors like to take their time to woo us and mingle.
Woodland wild rice soup recipe at my Pinterest.
I hope you’re basking in the splendor of this bright beautiful gifted day.
The sight of my bicycle’s turned seat always makes me giggle.
Upon one crisp October morning.
The image is from last year, when I decided to go for an early morning autumnal spin through my neighborhood’s apple orchard. Autumnal spins, I highly recommend them, made up of the stuff of magic brews, like a spellbinding bowl of forest mushroom and wild rice chowder, the kind that can warm the chilliest of bones.
With the exception of an elderly gentleman and his perky-eared Westie, both frozen in amusement at my delirious merriment, I thought I had the woods all to myself that morning, thrilled to fly my red scarf/cape through the bumpy acorn-paved trails, all too oblivious to the twisting of the seat. 😉