Fruit and nut (and some leaves too!) fall

Crunchy beech

It's a dangerous place these days - walking in the woods that is. You run the risk of either being caught in the line of fire of masses of acorns ready to surrender to the draw of the earth, or a shower of drying leaves that are destined to fall to provide the essential ammunition for earthworms and other recyclers of the forest trenches. It's a beautiful place now and even though I love summer, I love autumn best when it appears to us as it has done the last few days - mist-shrouded mornings followed by golden sunshine and leaf-kicking-perfect afternoons before red sky at night takes over just about teatime. 

It's back to walking every day now so no more just wishing I was out there. And there's a feast of colour to be found as reward - sloe and haw berries, acorns and chestnuts, and every shade of leaf on twig and branch and forest floor. Holly has developed a love of acorns so the walking is slowing down a bit as she snacks en route. Alannah is oblivious as she rides in the tight sling and buries her head in the warmth of mother or father's chest. I had to shield her head from unexpected acorn fire a few times - motherhood brings all sorts of new jobs and roles, some expected and most very unexpected! 

Time out from wandering the woods

We follow the same path most days - down the long oak lined avenue to Charleville Castle, off on a tangent to say hello to the majestic beech with abundance of crisp brown leaves carpeting our feet, up and over fallen ivy laden tumbled down pine trunks and then a sharp left turn before the crumbling gates of the castle, and then we tunnel uphill through infestuous (newly coined word for this blog) laurel that really shouldn't be there as it crowds all things of forest beauty out. And then, homeward bound we meander along the margins where oak and 'all sorts' forest meets barley fields and winter beet crops before we turn back onto the car-busy thoroughfare that links the outside world and the midlands small-town on whose edge we now live. 

We have an oasis of woodland and bark and leaf almost right outside our door - a paradise for otherwise housebound dogs that get loosed on weekends, a runners escape in all weathers, a kingdom of the acorn and sanctuary for newborn and new-become mother on sunny autumn days. 

Here comes the Sun..

The faint sound of gentle guitar picking in my ears and the soft, liquid caramel voice of Nina Simone singing 'Here comes the sun, little darlin'...ah, bliss. It was there all the time, tucked away in the centre of our tiny solar system. But hidden from us by a barrage of heavy winds and torrents of rain all last week. The winds whipped up last Saturday and - apart from a reprieve on Wednesday afternoon when it seemed safe to unchain oneself from the wind resistant anchors and take a very short, almost daring walk up the road - they pretty much remained the dominant force in the Irish universe up until yesterday afternoon. 

Red - another king of Charleville

And now, here we are, absolutely and 100% surrendering to the awesome presence of the sun. It's the second day of February and January has left the building. Sure it's 99% psychological, but that small difference in the name of the month, those precious extra hours in the evening and today's burst of glorious golden shine - well, it's the most welcome stress and tension dissolver. You can feel the strain of tensed shoulders shivering for the last month just melting away in the warm embrace of the sun. Word of caution though, this morning the weatherman said make the most of it, so we certainly did ;)

The day started with an early trot over to see the famous King Oak - (http://www.treeoftheyear.org/?lang=en vote for it) - over the road on the way up to Charleville Castle. Holly was busy rooting through rotting leaves while I was just enjoying the morning sunrise through the trees, when all in a flash - a flash of russet red to be exact - the fastest Red Squirrel ever, crossed my vision in a blur and scarpered into the safety of the very same King Oak's branches. Great to see, always. It's not so common a sight, and the vulnerable Reds are losing out to the more aggressive Grey Squirrels (a non-native species 'introduced' decades ago as what seemed then a great birthday present idea for some very rich aristocrat, and then escaped into the wilds to reproduce and spread and for various reasons squeeze out Red). 

Red Squirrel - top middle of photo ;)
taking refuge on the King Oak

With my phone I managed to capture the tip of his ears as he watched us for high safety - you'll do well to pick it out in the picture posted here. After that, it was a a late enough chorus to call it dawn, but Blackbirds and Robins were in full voice, and Jays seemed to be popping out of every corner of the wood. The woods in Charleville are pretty special - there's plenty of variety in terms of species, and plenty of hidden corners and secret places to entertain the walker throughout the year. Bluebell time is probably my favourite though. Or that time in mid June when you can walk through the woods as late at 10pm and still see for the shade. Every time we leave the wood, Holly always finds a suitably over-sized schtick to bring home to add to her growing stockpile - today was no exception ;)

more schticks

Basking dog

After that it was time to bask in the sunshine, and we made the best of it. No work today - apart from making the most delicious banana-chocolate chip bread for the returning hard working man of the house. But that wasn't really hard work, and I followed HIS own easy recipe - half a cup of brown sugar, half a cup of butter (I used cooking oil), 1 egg, 1 cup wholemeal flower, 1 cup self raising flour, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1 teaspoon all spice, a dash of rum, enough chocolate chips for your own taste (plenty!!!), four large bananas and milk to make the batter just moist enough - all in the oven at 180deg for just about an hour. A beautiful cake that is perfect for sitting outside - yes outside - with a cup  of tea and soaking in the sunshine on this fine Spring day. 

Seeing the Mystic in Falling Leaves

Journey into
the darker half of the year..Samhain

There's something completely magical about this time of the year. Not magical in the Christmas sense when artificial lights are colouring houses and trees. And not magical like springtime when hosts of daffodils bend over footpaths and otherwise dreary motorways. This is mystical magical. This is the time of year when everything that we took for granted - long summer evenings, leaves on trees and things a' growing in the garden - is taken from us. The evenings shorten, the lights come on early, the fire is lit everyday and slowly but surely things that were green and living, giving - start to decay and the boundaries between living and dying are blurred. No wonder it is the time of Hallowe'en and the time for spirits to cross over into the world of the living, reminding us of our own mortality. Us Gaels refer to it as Samhain - the seasonal festival that marks the end of the harvest or growing year and welcomes the darker half of the year until the light returns again in Bealtaine (the start of May). Samhain is essentially a festival for the dead and Bealtaine a festival for the living. Meanwhile, back in 2012 Ireland....

While we shiver and bemoan winter's return, those non-humans living closer to the march of Nature's tune surrender without a peep of discontent. Towering beech trees drop the spring green leaves of summer with a gentle shiver - not however without celebrating their passing with a veritable carnival of colour - the like of which would match the canvases of any Van Gogh or Gauguin kaleidoscope of colour. The trees' palette is mostly orange and rust and yellow and purple and green (reminiscent of The Orb's Little Fluffy Clouds anyone?) and all shades between. Walls of burnt orange tunnelling a long beech lined avenue - well, it's enough to take a gal's breath awake on a cold and bitter November day ;) I like ;)

The last three weekends we have been gifted with bright blue skies and views of the sun that would shame a summer's day in Ireland. The cold would bite the nose off you but layers of wool and soft cottons defy the wicked chill and once wellies are on, it's only a matter of minutes kicking through ankle deep layers of crispy, crinkling leaves before the warmth is back in the heart and defiance of life's hardships back in the soul. The Holly dog loves it, and her nose is well buried where newly fallen leaves meet rotting humus. What she hopes to find under all those layers I can only imagine, but the sense of joy that is conveyed by the constant wagging of golden cocker spaniel tail is testament to the joy of the woods and all that it brings her. She first came to us as a puppy in a late October, and I like to think that this is her true time of the year, and her golden coat blends well with the golden carpet that covers the woodland floor.

This one is a teaser - can you spot the Holly dog?

Other than walking the woods in our spare time, it's been pretty quiet on the Holly Cottage garden front. The first fine sunny day we had we emptied the greenhouse of collapsing tomato and cucumber plants, grow bags and all! Then it was time for washing - sudsy water to rid the plastic of the veneer of algae that had built up over summer. The job was painless and kind of therapeutic in some ways. We were reminded of the sweet cucumbers and the cherry delights that we feasted on since July, but resolve was strengthened to do a better job next year....whatever that will bring. In our autumn clean we did encounter the odd brazen slug who was hoping for a mild winter ride under a frost free ledge. Seriously, is there no end to their slug terror? In other news, all the carrots are up, a few sad turnips are left in the ground, beetroot is all harvested and a bounty of parsnips remain in the ground for the winter oven. Speaking of which...

Tonight's creation is oven baked sausages with roasted onions, potatoes and parsnips - you said it, yum ;) Cut spuds and parsnips into wedges, onions cut head to toe. Drizzle with oil, add a sprinkle of fennel and cumin seeds and some fresh thyme. Into the oven at 200deg for 30mins. Then add your favourite sausages - meat or veggie. Roast for another 20mins, let it sit for a few minutes out of the oven - if you can - and then enjoy immensely ;) It's a recipe from the captain of the River Cottage ship, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall....oh so tasty.  Check out the following link, and enjoy!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/feb/24/sausage-recipes-hugh-fearnley-whittingstall

River Cottage pic..the Holly Cottage pic wasn't taken quick enough ;)