November 2024 - A Seasonal Diary
A seasonal diary of nature spots and little moments
Hello November
“Peering from some high window, at the gold of November sunset and feeling that if day has to become night, this is a beautiful way.”
A Week Away…
A quiet morning cup of tea outside with my best bud. The Old Lint House stood tall behind us, a Scottish blackbird warning it’s clan of our un-exptected presence. There’s a rose or two left, standing proud against the old window obstructing the view of Dad, he’s tilting his head back as he sips his morning coffee warm in the living room and unaware we are out here. This is the first morning of our holiday. A Scottish borders holiday made up of 6 adults, 3 children, 6 dogs and far too many mince pies. A holiday that should have been chaos but turned out to be surprisingly calm in a loud, can’t hear yourself think kind of way. If holidays were blankets this one would have been tartan, it would have been woolly and just the right thickness. I want this morning etched into my memory, precious because mornings like these are rare. Nobody needs to be anywhere and aside from the mountain of coats and snacks we need to organise nobody really has much to do. The leaves are mostly on the floor crunching underfoot with just a small few hanging on not wanting to let the year go. It’s mild for November, there’s a bee humming around the Ivy making the most of it’s autumn nectar and there’s lichen all over the trees. It’s the kind of ancient looking, forgotten forrest, enchanted lichen you only seem to find in the romantic valleys and glens of wales and Scotland. This house, this holiday, my disfunctional, fun, loud and boystrous family. I want to soak it all up and never leave. A week of beaches and towns and tantrums and dog washing, stream walking, rook befriending, seagull photographing, charity shopping, cake eating, tea sipping, coffee drinking fun. The first day home after most holidays for me is a relief but the first day home after this one left me feeling bereft.
Queue then the hectic catch up that follows somebody who takes a week off in the busiest month of the year. Commissions were piled high, stress was felt right up into my armpits but the fairy inkcaps were discovered, cows were befriended, dogs were walked by the light of the moon and christmas cards were a’stacked.
