Going in

"I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in. Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves." ~John Muir

It has been a long while since life really slowed down, for more than a few moments, and in day light. Work and children, joyous as they are, are constant. We snatch sweet moments here or there, like hanging out the laundry, when everyone else is inside, for a moment there is just you, the blue sky, the birds, hopefully a ray of sunshine and phew, breathe.

Anyhow, our long while was up. We packed the car, dropped all four children at their grandparents (thanks goodness for grandparents!) and headed for the hills, quite literally.





No lights, no phones, no television, no computer, no people. Just shelter, earth, fire, air, water.
Simon fished, I stitched (the skitchbook!) and foraged.

















We made wild mushroom risotto, something I rarely cook because the children loathe it, so it was a special camp fire treat.





And our sleeping arrangements were delightfully comfortable (thank goodness for grandparents AND airbed's!), resplendant with jolly vintage bed linen, the bed and it's layers are my camping indulgence, and yes, I confess, that is a rug on the floor of my tent, what can I say? It folds up real small...



John Muir was a clever old boy, wasn't he?

The Walk

The Bear likes to take a walk most day's. He wears his sister's boots and his favourite witch's hat.



His first stop is Saffie the horse



Then maybe a little rest





Then the searching begins....



it can take a while to find the perfect rock





Finally.....



Off he goes, carrying it proudly aloft



To show his friends, the cows. He shouts them from the fence, "Cow! Look! Cow!"



Today they are too pre-occupied to say hello, he is a little dissapointed





So he throws the stone into the field, for them to see later



and hat in hand, home he goes



Collecting a little something for his sister on his way



I am merely a casual observer on these walks, carrier of discarded hats and occasional hand holder. He leads the way, chooses the route, and decides when it is time to leave. My little explorer, and friendly one, he does love those cows so.

a Field Trip

Miss Boo and I took a wee field trip together, sketchbooks and pencils in hand, we were seeking out thistles and other wild pretties...





We talked alot about how they looked, we looked at them for a really long time...









We drew what we saw....







and admired blue skies...



Miss Boo decided that she likes drawing wild flowes rather alot, and blue skies, and field trips, and quiet sketchbook time with her mama, and I am rather inclined to agree, field trips with little ones and sketchbooks, AND blue skies, whatever could be better?

Moon Visitor

No one is sure why a moth is driven to light, it is thought that it navigates by moonlight and in the absence of moonlight, she looks for the next best thing.

Even at the risk of losing her life, the moth is determined to follow her moon lit path.

The moon is her mother, and she will follow her at all cost.
She is vulnerable to harm, but she keeps going....

This elephant hawk moth flew through my window and settled upon a lampshade, mesmerising.

I see a Tree

I unwrapped the bundles, no leaf prints, and one cloth was a bit dissapointing so I tied it back up and popped it back in the dye bath to steep a while longer.

But I like this one, alot.



I see a tree trunk! Do you?
It dried darker than it appeared when wet, the luminous lime greens turning a pale muddy brown.



I am delighted with the results, but really want some leaf prints. No luck with Oak, perhaps the leaves are too young?
Does anyone know what leaves found in the UK might print nicely?

Overgrown

I have been absent for a few days on account of a small trip to France. After the spate of burglaries (3 in 2 years) and lack of funds to maintain the land and gardens, we were becoming increasingly concerned about it. It rather got to the point where we were just grateful it hadn't burned down. The last time it was burgled we were not even able to go over and tidy it up again, due to financial and work constraints. Needless to say, knowing our home lay in tatters and not being able to get there, was quite a horrid feeling.

My brother stepped in to save the day, by agreeing to live there for a while. So early this week I headed for the airport, to pack up our little house and make room for my brother to move in.

To say it was an emotional few days is quite an understatement. I cried the whole time, though it was lovely to catch up with much missed friends and to breathe in the scent of home (albeit a bit musty) again.

As we drove to the house from the airport, the route being mainly farmland, I remembered each little house and garden we passed....the pretty maison d'maitre with it's blue shutters and glorious hydrangeas decorating it's front wall. The petite maison with green shutters and wysteria... the way the wildflowers bloomed especially brightly as we turned the corner into our village... Monsieur Honesty's house, now sadly empty since he moved to the Maison de Retraite (old folks home), but his rose garden still living on in his absence, and the light, the glorious french light.
I had a lump in my throat the entire way there, it was bittersweet.

I was quite overwhelmed by the state of the land surrounding the house, it has been little over a year since a gardner popped by, nature has well and truly taken over.
Whilst I was at first taken aback by the sheer amount of work that would be involved in getting the land in some usable order again, it was nice to note that the 8ft high brambles shielded the house from view and made it quite difficult for any subsequent burglaries to take place. It felt very much like mother nature had put her arms around our home and taken care of it for us.

Here are some picture you may remember seeing here a long while ago, when we lived there.





Here are the same spaces now...





Quite spectacular growth, isn't it? We can't see the lake, or reach it...

I miss France terribly, and still hope to return, it may be a while yet, but while I breathe, I hope.

In Bloom

Last year nothing flowered, we had a short wet summer. It was our first summer at River Cottage and I was so dissapointed with the lack of colour in the garden, so imagine my surprise when June came around this year, and there are roses abound, and many lovely wild flowers too.

What does one do with a garden full of roses and wildflowers? Well, aside from sit outdoors getting drunk on their scent all day long, we bring them indoors of course.

In the wild...

The flowers are the prettiest, don't you think?