Misty Moments

Just a short post as I continue to prepare for the big Easter market this weekend.

A late night finishing up glazing for today's firing, has my brain as foggy as the photos I took on a recent evening walk.
The condensation was so very thick, that the heavy moisture played havoc with the camera.

But, the atmosphere was deliciously eerie.

The wheel is turning, and the nights are cool. An extra blanket goes on the bed.
Soon, the whole mountain will be painted in golden-russet hues.

Autumn is here.

♥

To everything, turn, turn, turn...

... there is a season, turn, turn, turn.


I know, a retro song again. Seems I just can't help myself ;)

This morning, I was thinking about the change of seasons. Then, I thought of the above titled song by The Byrds, which was also featured in the movie Forrest Gump - the scene where Jenny says goodbye to Forrest, then boards the bus back to California.

And, now it won't get out of my head.

So, if you remember, or know of, this song and hum it once, you'll have an earworm for the rest of the day. Sorry in advance, folks, heh heh.

~

While autumn is dialling down the temperature in the Northern Hemisphere, and beginning to dazzle with her beautiful brazen golden-red palette, spring has been delighting us down south with her cheery blooms, sweet scents and lovely lime leafage.

It stays cooler for a little longer here on the mountain.
There are still more grey days than sunny. And some of winter’s fading blooms remain to keep company with the newcomers… just for a little while longer.

From wonderful Waratahs and pretty Proteas to jaunty Jonquils, here is a selection of pics that I’ve snapped on our weekend walks over the past few weeks.

And remember, you can click on the images for a closer look.

I adore Hellebores (winter rose), and am happy to have them hang around through early spring.

Here, spot Mr. Beezlee among the blossoms.

 I wonder who's expecting?

You can always tell the warmer weather is coming when these guys stealthily creep out from their darkened, dusty abodes.

 

This long-legged lovely spans about 3 inches wide.

I usually leave them alone when they stay above eye-level inside. But, once they come down below that, it’s outside they go. Gently and safely unharmed. For, they have an important role to play in this world.
I just think they have a bigger range of snacks to choose from outside – that’s what I tell them anyway :)

Years ago, after washing my face one morning, I blindly reached for my towel and patted my face dry.
The towel “wriggled” on my cheek, and as I pulled it away, I saw a large huntsman sitting on the towel – right where my face had been!
I don’t know who was more shocked - me or spidey. Poor thing. Luckily, he was face fangs down on the towel, so all I felt were his hairy legs and body writhing against my skin.
Haha! I can almost hear the collective, “eeeeeuw’s” all the way from here :)


Fascinated by this amazing web seen recently.

Not sure if it was built by a Funnel Web spider. I didn’t think they lived in Victoria.
Now that’s a spider I wouldn’t like to mess with.

And, here's Jack,

bringing in the kindling - one stick at a time.

Okay blue-boy, no more firewood for a while now, xx.

Well, I’ve taken you from songs to seasons to spiders and finally, silver-blue soldiers. What a mixed bag!


Have a wonderful, safe coming weekend everyone.

♥

Energies abound!

First, I say farewell to autumn - until next year x



A lot of unusual energy is flowing right now.

I think many of you are feeling it. A little prickle or sensation of... something in the air?

You betcha!

The heightened energies of today's solstice are huge, especially as they are combined with those of the oncoming full moon and, wait for it...

Mercury, as he prepares to go retrograde on Wednesday.

Uh huh. Here we go.

So, the intense atmosphere is palpable.

And, I've a month of markets starting tomorrow. Panic has set in that I don't/won't have enough for the next four weeks, arrrgh!

Oh well. Go with the flow :)

 Happy

Winter/Summer Solstice

everyone!

Here's hoping all energies align well for us all.

♥

Roasted, toasted and ... "duck"!!

Autumn is in full glory on the mountain. Red, orange and golden-brown leaves of all shapes and sizes herald the soon to come frosty winter. And, spiky coated chestnut husks are all around on the ground.

As we are nearing the end of “chestnut season”, I thought I’d reminisce and share with you a tale.


On a visit to the bohemian city of Melbourne one cool autumn day years ago, I was pleasantly surprised to come across a little lady selling roasted chestnuts on the sidewalk.
Chestnuts! Real chestnuts!
Imagine my joy. I’d never eaten them before!

I'd moved from a warm temperate part of the country to a mountain region where hand-made seasonal signs advertising abundant autumn harvests are seen wherever you go. In the city, street vendors sell warm chestnuts to passers by. And, the Chestnut Festival is a hugely popular annual event.
It seems, chestnuts are considered highly and are very welcome here.

Without hesitation, I bought a bag. I was so excited to sample this aromatic delicacy which evokes sighs and nostalgic, wistful thoughts from folk far away in the Northern Hemisphere.
And, yes, I was very familiar with the "Christmas Song". It’s a classic.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

Sounds so cosy. I imagine snuggling down in a big comfy armchair, warm tartan blanket tucked around my knees, enveloped in a rosy red glow as I stare into the flickering flames.

I've had a very romantic notion of chestnuts from a lifetime of cultural references in movies and literature.
Although, in our topsy turvy world, Christmas here is far from cold, and chestnuts in summer are, well, not on the menu.

And so, grasping the little brown paper bag containing the warm promise of new found delight in my hands, I searched for a place to sit. Settling my backside on some lovely old time worn church steps, I took a moment to indulge my senses.
There, on that cold but sunny mid-morning, newly arrived in this huge, handsome, bustling metropolis, amid cars, buses, delightful old trams and people to-ing and fro-ing, was I.

With the autumn sun gently warming me as I gazed at the beautiful old buildings, I reached into the bag, peeled back a crisp rich, mahogany coloured shell revealing its plump golden nugget and savoured,

my first ever roasted chestnut.

The buttery chewiness was at first alien to my taste buds. But soon, I found I had to have another, then another. One after the next, tempting me to finish them all.
With a full belly and a feeling of contentment, I smiled.
Bliss.
Finally, I knew.

A week or so later, and with the recent memory of that fine morning still very fresh in my mind, I came across raw chestnuts for sale at my local fruit & veg store.
I thought, "I'll take some home and roast my own".

I had no “open” fire or chestnut roaster to toast them in. But, I had heard that they could be cooked in a conventional oven.
I bought two dozen, took them home and spaced them out on a flat tray, then placed them in the pre-heated oven.
And, smiled in anticipation of the warm, creamy, nutty delights to come.

I busied myself about the kitchen. Soon, my son would be home from school and we would discuss his day over a bite to eat.
When he arrived, I excitedly told him that there was, “a surprise waiting in the oven”.

Uh huh. Yep, you all know what’s coming, right?

Almost as soon as the words came out of my mouth… Bang!!
The sound that came from the kitchen was like a car exhaust backfiring. In the oven?

I opened the oven door to find that one of the chestnuts had shattered, leaving a coarse residue of cream coloured powder all over the interior!
“What the … ?”

Clearly without thinking, I quickly took out the tray - loaded with the (UN-detonated) remaining nuts and placed it on the stove top.
As I turned away to get a dish cloth, the kitchen suddenly became a culinary war zone, as the rest of the chestnuts EXPLODED!

These seemingly innocent glossy brown pods had turned into organic projectile missiles, discharging the same coarse dry powder and shell fragments all over the stove, rangehood, sink, benches, shelves, cupboard doors, top of the fridge, the ceiling, the floor - even into the bloody salt pig!

And, all over me.

My back was covered in pulverised creamy-white 'soot' and chunky bits. I would spend the rest of the evening finding more tiny bits in my hair. Later, I found pieces of shell in the next room and half way up the stairs!

In the aftermath, when the last remaining nut had blown, as calm as can be, my son turns to me and says,
"aren't you supposed to cut into them or something before you put them in the oven?"

Oh bloody hell, that'll teach me for not doing my research before I attempt an unknown dish! Haha!

So, I now have my own fond memories of roasted chestnuts :)


These days, we buy farm-fresh raw chestnuts from our favourite grower here on the mountain - a dear old Greek man who, along with his sweet wife, has been growing and harvesting them for many years.

And, we oven “roast” them at home.
It’s not as romantic as on an open fire, but we relish the smell throughout the house just the same and eagerly await these little earthy-sweet morsels on a cold evening.

Minus the rapid-fire eruptions and resulting clean up.

Ahhhh, I love autumn – I think you all know that by now :)

♥ 

Autumn reflections

I love this season so much.

By day

and by night.

♥

Come...

for a walk in the forest.

Step through the gateway and onto the path that leads away from where you came. The path that always beckons, “keep walking”.

Glimpses across the gully tempt you further.

After a time, you arrive here. A liminal place, guarded by two silent sentinels.

Which way?

Both paths will lead back to the road.

One way is open. Sunlit and clear. Known.

Overhead, screeching cockatoos and parrots will keep you company.

The other is wild. Darker. Unpredictable.

This way, the deeper you go, the more silent it becomes. The wind, high above in the tree tops, doesn’t permeate down here.

There is just the sound of unseen creatures, rustling in the tangled, tunnelled network of undergrowth and the steady beat of your own heart.

Enveloped by the smell of damp, mossy earth and eucalypt, you find yourself narrowly winding around age-old gnarled roots.

Through lush fern gullies.

Past long fallen logs and tree trunk doorways, where mysterious scufflings are heard within.

Something, someone’s, home.

It’s another world.

An “other” world.

Ethereal whisperings just above the soft gurgling of water in a moss-bedecked stream, has you wondering what you hear.

Look with soft eyes. The elusive beings of this place sometimes make themselves apparent.

Sometimes.

Creatures of the forest? Or elementals? Spirits of place. Their place.

Here. Now. Autumn.

It is a time when the veil is thinnest. Where communing with “the old” is somehow easier. Should you choose to connect with ancestors, this, this is the time.

Magic is all around. As it once was long ago. As it should be. As, perhaps it will be again.

The wild path belongs to Samhain.

Shadowy figures flicker on the periphery of vision.

There is a call to sit silently and go deep within. Listen. Be still.

With a quiet mind and open heart, you will hear. Shhhh. There is nothing to fear here. Open to the possibilities. You might be pleasantly surprised.

Which path would you choose?

 

Magic Monday

And I'm so excited!

  

Because everywhere I turn,

 

 I see evidence that...

Autumn is here :)

♥