There are seasons in the Doyenne’s year when her kitchen takes on the steamy atmosphere of the witches’ cave in Shakespeare’s play, Macbeth. Late summer and early autumn is the season for jams and jellies made from the wild rasps and brambles and other hedgerow glories that I pick for her. January is homemade marmalade season.
Man with two dogs
The Doyenne and I have been entertaining her New Zealand niece and her fiancé, who we were meeting for the first time. We had ideas of interesting places to go but a month living out of suitcases saw Claire and Graham opt to stay close to home so we spent an informative morning at the Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre.
Just sometimes nature and the human world collide – quite literally.
We woke up on Monday to our first frosted grass, frozen windscreen morning of autumn and by the time Inka and I went out for the early walk the clouds had rolled away and the sun was shining in a cornflower blue sky.
This week I revisited Murton Farm Nature Reserve, which is two miles outside Forfar, on the A932 Forfar-Friockheim road.
The Christmas robin is depicted as a roly-poly, jolly, little bird with scarlet breast feathers epitomising all that is warm and cosy about Christmas.
The Doyenne and I are back from a week’s break in Kirkcudbright, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, in Dumfries and Galloway.
I bought a Selkirk bannock in our favourite farm shop in deepest Aberdeenshire. Seeing it lying in a basket brought back childhood memories of visiting my Loanhead aunties (outside Edinburgh) who often had it on the table for high tea.
Tuesday was one of those memorable days – sunny, soft and sweet – that confirm, if ever I needed confirmation, that I’ve never wanted to live anywhere other than my north-east of Scotland corner of Angus and the Mearns.
I don’t know how many conkers it takes to make an autumn but I’ve been picking up my first ones out walking with Inka.