Summer's swan song...

I love how nature is in frantic gathering mode now that autumn is definitely upon us. The flowers are giving their final push, the insects collecting every last remnant of summer goodness, the birds are singing longer and louder to the sky, and the sky has decided to show off its colours at the start and finish of each ever-shortening day. There's still blue in the air, but it's a little paler and the yellows and oranges and reds are burning everywhere on their way to brown and umber just before going to sleep once more with winter's stark monochrome simplicity. What a delicious, crisp, invigorating time autumn in the British countryside is. Everything has its Swan song if you listen.

Charming chimes...

I'm really pleased that the old cutlery that came to light when I was cleaning out my shed gave me a few hours of happy creativity, plus the opportunity to recycle some old 'junk'. It was such fun and I think a good result. I've been meaning to make one of these windchimes for years but, as I'm a lazy old toad, I kept putting it off. As it turned out it was easy, the hardest bit drilling the holes for the fishing line - 'bit' pun intended because it buggered mine. All I needed was some fine pliers and a pair of determined hands to bend and shape the stainless steel of Sheffield. I really do think that Hans Arp might approve as there is a surreal feel to my mobile not to mention a lovely, lonely tinkle in the warm breeze that pervades and gently billows outside my back door at the moment. It feels good to be back to just a smidgeon of creativity. What next I wonder?

My own time...

I love the Maori word for autism, it's 'Takiwatanga' and means in 'his own time and space'. I love my own time and space and I love to drive slowly along the road. I have zero reasons to rush and slowly means I see beyond my own time and experience the space of living. This Heron was sat in a tree not far from a busy road in town. if I'd have been following the speed limit I'd never have seen him, but I wasn't, I was ambling along at half the advised speed, a nuisance to anyone who had anywhere to go I guess. I had to park illegally by the side of the road for a few minutes to look up at him. I saw he and he saw me, neither of us in a rush as we watched each other for a while. He was magnificently stately. I wonder what he thought of me?

A few leaves...

I am always amazed by how things which are inconsequential transform and make themselves consequential. This is just a small drift of fallen early autumn beech leaves blown into a corner of the hospital car park, but it's so much more. It heralds a change in the seasons from summer to autumn and the promise of winter followed by spring. When I saw these leaves they stopped me in my tracks with their perfection and beauty. The colours took my breath away and I thought, 'the wind really knows how to compose a great picture', an impressionist still life or perhaps a tapestry from a Pre-Raphaelite seamstress. Maybe they blew in from Monet's garden.

That time of the day...

I love to stand at the end of each day and think for a few minutes about it. I guess it's a kind of 'counting my blessings' time, what some might call a prayer of thanks, and even though I have no God I want to thank the universe or something it seems. Last evening, as I stood at my gate listening to the breeze, the pizza I made for dinner featured heavily in my thoughts. It was good. I thought for a few seconds about the rhubarb crowns I have ordered and the future crumbles they would make for me once planted. I thought of my friend Goronwy and felt relief that his pacemaker implant operation went well. I gave thanks that I had almost no pain from my extracted tooth all day, although I have no idea who I was giving thanks to, perhaps it was the tooth fairy. It felt like a magic to stand in the fresh air as the light changed above me and the universe span whilst a flock of jackdaws danced in the air to a tune that I could feel part of. What an amazing day I'd had, pizza and birds and rhubarb plants and pacemakers and such a beautiful evening sky. Not praying, just thinking and thanking something that I don't know what to call other than life. Thank you Life.

Inside the shed...

I am so pleased that after five years of not being able to get inside my big garden shed I have uncluttered it and can even get to my workbench. It's about time I got off my arse and started to make something happen. I won't say it was fun, but it was satisfying ad I found tools I had forgotten owning, six cans of WD40 which I constantly re-buy to replace the one(s) I can't find, three kites, a couple of new brooms and power tools galore. The possibilities are endless. There is something to be said for order and rationalisation it seems. All I need now is a cunning plan.