Autumn Ready

We're into the second week in October; a time traditionally associated with misty mornings and chilly nights.  So what happened?  We're in the middle of what used to be known as an Indian Summer - something of a rarity - but is now quite obviously the frightening reality that is climate change.

In spite of the unseasonably mild weather, the trees and woodland floor seem to be on message.  Leaves are turning and fungi are popping up everywhere (just as they should) suggesting that, at least for now, they will infuse the soil with nutrients for the trees, their beneficiaries.  This puff ball fungus, on reaching maturity and upon impact, dramatically releases a cloud of dust like spores into the surrounding area.  Isn't it magical?

The grey squirrels are also preparing; collecting and squirrelling away acorns and nuts to store in their hastily dug (and often forgotten) larders.

We're all suspended in this strange between-seasons no man's land.

For once though, I'm prepared for Autumn.  I've already moved a number of items that I didn't feel I would wear enough during the colder months to justify their space on my clothes rail.  I've carefully shopped - slow fashion - acquiring a few more winter staples (inexplicably being low on versatile knits for example).  I've added to the reserve of books piling up on my bed side table and was calmly preparing to welcome the dark nights with open arms; relishing fruit crumbles, long walks and back to back rainy weekend film marathons and we find ourselves basking in 20 degree sunshine.  

So what's new?  Well very little here is new.  Most of these garments have doubtless had more than one owner in its life, but now it's my turn.  So in reverse order.  Feel free to hum the Top of the Pops chart rundown music as you read.

10.  Navy blue polo neck jumper by former High Street store BHS.  One can never have too many of these beauties.  I wear them, alone or layered, when the temperature plummets.  Here, in this grainy, evening phone pic, I'm wearing it with an old vintage Indian cotton maxi skirt to keep out the chill.

At 9, a 1990s Adidas top.  This was a high risk purchase for me (£2.95).  I'm not usually drawn to sportswear, but this fleecy gillet spoke to me and is very warm and cosy.  Great for woodland walks, with a knitted hat and gloves.

8.  Himalayan Hemp Nepalese Rucksack - Perfect for carrying extra lenses around on our walks.

7.  Winter whites.  It might sound counter intuitive and I have little research to back this up, but I feel that white warms up my sun starved skin in winter.  I've scored a River Island top in thick cotton with puffed sleeves (see 4 below) and a versatile M&S knit.

Just in at 6, this Zara jumper.  I do find myself increasingly seeking out colour as I age.  This pastel pale lemon will remind me that spring is around the corner when I'm shivering in January.

Dropping to number 5, an Indian cotton dress.  This one's a bit of an anomaly in an Autumn wardrobe, but it could still work for now, layered over that navy blue polo neck, leggings and knee high boots.  

A new entry at number 4!   I kept picking this next item up and hanging it back on the charity shop rail.  I initially assumed it was a skirt, but actually it's a pair of ginormous wide leg trousers.  They're synthetic and a bit "fashion" but give a great silhouette and are lined.  The label (Ghost Harlem - Japanese?) was new to me and ultimately the quirky avant-garde print and vibrant colours won me over.   Sometimes love just can't be explained, but that's what this is!

I'm wearing them here with the aforementioned "winter white" River Island top, but stripes work too, as would a slouchy, chunky knit.

3.  Black and white striped polo neck.  I like the way the Breton stripes echo the Adidas signature stripes of my sporty gillet.  It will also work beautifully layered under a sleeveless tank top and teamed with my next find......climbing towards the top spot...

2.  Pleated midi skirt, made in the UK by now defunct heritage label, Windsmoor.

I've yet to wear this vibrant, winter bright skirt, picked up for around a fiver.  I spotted it on the charity shop rails during the heatwave, but just adored the colours and knew I already had a few items that would work with it.  I think I might pack it for our city break next week.

And straight in at number 1.  My one new purchase - a Kharibu vintage kantha waistcoat.  I spotted these earlier in the year and although I knew I had to have one, I bided my time until the £70.00 price tag became £40.00.  It's definitely going to be a wardrobe staple for me.  Here is is teamed with baggy jeans and a Breton t-shirt.  

So if all of this talk of Autumn hasn't given you that Ready brek inner glow, this little anecdote just might.  

Twitter is sadly these days associated with a narcissistic billionaire and toxicity.  But last week, after taking to the platform to try (in vain) to get some resolution from Virgin Media regarding our locked email account, I asked if anyone else was having similar issues and sharing my frustration in not being able to speak to an actual human being.  Within a couple of minutes, I received an affirmative comment from one London based Sarah Ziegel.  

While we vented at our mutual frustration online, Gareth finally managed to unlock our email account (with zero assistance from Virgin Media).  We decided that we should message Sarah and offer to talk her through the steps Gareth had taken in the hope that they would work for her.  

So Sarah and I followed each other on Twitter and Sarah messaged me her phone number.  Gareth promptly made the call and hey presto!  Twenty minutes later, Sarah was reunited with her inbox.  

Sarah was so grateful that she insisted Gareth supply her with our address.  An author, blogger and mother to four autistic children, Sarah has written an award winning book, Marching to a Different Beat (winner of The Selfies Book Awards 2023 Memoir Category).  I was so excited to receive a signed copy in the post the following morning with a lovely handwritten postcard.  

Twitter can be a force for good and I can't wait to read it.  Judging by the intro, I know I'm in for an emotional and engaging read!

Bye for now!

Beauty and the Beast

Peculiar and somewhat prophetic, captured exactly four days before the Ukrainian Invasion, we stumbled across this abandoned shooting range - a relic of the second World War.  Unbelievably, this austere wartime relic is a short walk away from the centre of Carding Mill Valley, the National Trust managed Shropshire beauty spot.

Abandoned buildings always have unsettling atmospheres...

...a feeling of time suspended...

...a sense of unfinished business...a tug of war between past and present, for the building's heart and soul.

However, at times like this, it is vital to remind ourselves that there is still beauty in this world and wide angle, black and white landscapes can help do just that.

Here is St Laurence's Church (Grade I listed) in Church Stretton with its Norman nave, Victorian aisles and 13 grade II listed structures within its churchyard.  

A frequent failure on my part, I tend to do my research later (usually because we don't plan in minute detail our activities in advance) and then regret it when I discover key elements I wish I had captured for posterity.  In this case, I later discovered that the Church bears a rare Sheela-na-gig above its Norman doorway.  If you don't already know what this is, you might want to Google it to spare my blushes.  Apparently, a stone has been strategically placed to protect the modesty of this one.

When the news became too much to bear, we headed deep into Worcestershire's Wyre Forest (the largest woodland National Nature Reserve in England) to experience nothing but the sound of the gentle spring breeze rustling the trees and the melodic, blissfully ignorant bird song.  The forest dates back to at least the year 900 and covers the equivalent area of 1700 football pitches.  

This week has been a conveyor belt of uniquely varied meetings, notably with a local celebrant, the National Trust (to agree some student work experience) and a representative of the shiny new Glass Museum, ahead of its opening.  I'm also checking and charging camera equipment in readiness for an Islamic house wedding photo shoot next weekend.

In the meantime, a couple of purchases to share with you - some light relief.  First up, an immaculate Broiderie Anglais white dress, purchased by its original owner in 1969 and worn once for a garden party in the same year.  I had envisaged using this for a photo shoot with a willing model (which I still plan to do), but I'm thinking it may find its way into my summer wardrobe with a little "toughening up" styling.

Lastly, I can't remember the last time I bought a pair of earrings.  I tend to wear the same little silver sleepers on repeat.  I never seem to find any second hand earrings I like and fancied a departure from my usual preferred precious metal, silver.  After a little research, I came across the Parisienne Agape Studio, creators of contemporary, affordable pieces, inspired by ancient culture.  Even better, Agape pieces are coated using sustainable, recycled batches of 24 carat gold.  

Here's the link.  https://agape-studio.com/pages/about

My belated Birthday treat arrived on Friday, beautifully presented in a little vegan leather pouch and were exactly what I was looking for.  I chose the Alba earrings, inspired by the ancient Persian civilisation and symbols of sensuality and charm.  I'm hoping some of this might rub off on me.  

And so another Saturday rolls around.  I'm now making some headway into my latest read, The Mercies...

...and eagerly awaiting the second episode of season 6 of Peaky Blinders.  I can't bring myself to binge watch this.  I want to savour its artistry and performances.

I've made a conscious decision to watch the news during daylight hours and avoid the late bulletin.  It's just too much.  I made some headway into getting together a package to donate to one of the local collection points, a Polish Church in Dudley.  However, after hearing stories of some collection points being overwhelmed, I'm wondering whether a cash donation might be a better option...?

Having recently produced a set of postcards which includes this jaded sunflower, some of its beauty is now lost to me, given its symbolic link to Ukraine.  This photograph now seems to reflect the country's current desperate situation.

I much prefer to keep these sunflowers in mind (photographed in a field near Sarlat, France) and like us all, try and somehow will this war to end.

As I type, the sun has retreated behind a blanket of white cloud and the wind is quickening.  Not that it matters today, for this afternoon we're off to unleash an afternoon with the Evanses on our friends, Bob and Caroline.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend!  Sending positive vibes in return for your news!

Autumn's Swan Song

Well, we've had another odd week (is there any other kind these days?)  It started well enough, with the arrival of a parcel from Vix containing "Slammerkin"- a recommended read, accompanied by a postcard featuring one of my favourite photos by Steve McCurry.

On the same day, Gareth discovered that the pond level had dropped dramatically.  He decided to monitor the situation for a couple of days, but upon further investigation, it was clear all was not well.  

Meanwhile, I was having my own problems, as my editing software was at best, exceptionally slow and at worst, unresponsive.  I was forced to seek help via an online chat.  When this failed to fully resolve matters, I agreed to allow the technical assistant to share my screen.  I still find this concept quite bizarre.  The issue was identified within the hour, but somehow, 3 hours later, Sandar, my virtual companion, was still in my screen, randomly asking me questions about the format I shoot in and my storage system, his cursor hovering over certain experimental photos of mine which perhaps would have benefitted from an explanation....(what's with the ear?)...

...and occasionally issuing me with instructions.  

I confess I reached a point where I thought that we would be trapped together in a virtual world forevermore.   He was oblivious when I did break off to make some tea and seemed happy beavering away in cyberspace.  But eventually my technical trauma came to an end.  But before I could fully relax, Gareth decided to tap on the patio doors and, under torch light (it was now dark), showed me a rather large toad, which seemed to  be resting contentedly on his hand.  On closer inspection, there was something very wrong about the toad's prone position and milky gaze.  Plus it wasn't just large, it was bloated and the stuff of nightmares.  No surprise that I needed an Advocaat to calm my nerves (well, it's nearly Christmas).  

The pond, it transpired, had been punctured by an unknown party.  The chief suspects are:-

1.  Next door's dog.  

Evidence:  Our neighbours had recently been working on their fencing and there was a stray tennis ball next to the pond.

2.  Heron.  

Evidence:  None needed.  Mr H is always in the suspect line up in these circumstances.

3.  Moles. 

Evidence:  We have periodically been plagued by moles.  We always elect to ignore them and they usually move on, but there are currently three mole hills triangulating one corner of the pond.  Could it be the result of over zealous digging?

The frogs and remaining toads were temporarily relocated while Gareth put down a new pond liner and re-filled the pond.  The plants and pondlife are now back in position.  Luckily we're not particularly overlooked in our garden.  If we were, I'm not sure what the neighbours would have made of a man, seemingly covered in mud, standing in and swearing at a hole in the ground at 1 am.

In other news, I was finally able to watch The Colour Room, a film directed by Claire McCarthy, whose credits include the mesmerising TV adaptation of The Luminaries.  

The Colour Room, starring Phoebe Dynevor, Matthew Goode and David Morrissey, charts the meteoric rise of ceramicist Clarice Cliff from factory floor girl to owner/artist.  

I was fortunate enough to do a stint as a filming assistant on this earlier in the year when the Black Country Living Museum was used as a location.  The film didn't disappoint.  

If anyone has any spare Bizarre range items lying around (now commanding prices upwards of £200 on Ebay), I'd be more than happy to take them off your hands.

The vibrant colours beloved by Cliff are evident all around us right now.  I'm estimating that we have perhaps one more week of falling leaves and Autumn colours before winter's shades of grey colour palette takes over.

The oak tree leaves - always the last to fall - are rapidly turning now.  They won't be long.

The ferns and bracken are enjoying a final flourish.

The trees golden tips are scorched orange and red now and the slightest whisper of wind will take them.

Seed heads are adopting their final poses.

But there are still pops of colour evident in the yellow lit gorse bushes.

All aboard the Autumn Express!  Here's a timely shot of a yellow diesel engine on the Severn Valley Railway passing through the autumn landscape captured on our walk yesterday.

This distant shot of a sailing yacht on Trimpley Reservoir taken through the trees from a nearby hillside was barely edited - just look at the colours in that landscape!

The journey home made for some challenging photography conditions.  These photos taken with my Nikon from the passenger seat of a moving car through a dirty windscreen, are my attempts to capture the fiery glow from last night's sunset, lighting up the trees.

This year's colour display has been late to arrive and all too fleeting, but so inspiring.