Friday Favourites: From Morning til Night

 

I slipped out of the house a bit earlier this morning just as the sun in the east reflected pink light on the clouds in the west. It was a little bit crisp out and I was glad I had pulled on my down jacket - for the first time. 

I heard the sweetest song, a long rise and short fall, of a bird I didn't recognize. Pulling out my phone I opened the Merlin app and quickly identified the song as that of the Golden-Crowned Sparrow. I didn't see the bird, but my what a beautiful song. It trilled away for quite some time. 

Nature also made itself known with the scent of a skunk somewhere in the neighbourhood. Not nearly as pleasant as the Sparrow's song. Passing a patch of blackberries I smelled their late summer fragrance, pleasantly winey. 

In the evening I snapped a photo of the glass bottles, recycled, on the windowsill. I love the abstract patches of light and dark created by the water and glass. 

A day-time photo of the same sunflower shows a very different mood. I'm filling vases with flowers all over the house because I know that cold and rain is coming. How I will miss being able to go outside and clip a bouquet or two. 

There are so many apples this year. I've made applesauce, apple slices, dried apples, apple galettes, and this week, an Apple Cake. It's a bit different than my usual apple cake, more of a coffee cake texture, and very toothsome. I'll try to put up a recipe on the other blog. 

I've mentioned several times that I'm writing a book, a memoir of 21 years in Ecuador with my husband and children. It's finally finished and I'm working with a publisher hoping to have it published around Christmas time. 

I've begun a SubStack account and plan to post excerpts from the book there, weekly. I'd love for you to join me there. You do not need to download any app to your phone. Here's the link to my account, LorrieOrr. Check it out, if you like. By subscribing you will get my posts sent directly to your email, something no longer possible with Blogger, and it costs nothing and never will. 

Friday Favourites: A Shift of Seasons

 

"I know fall is here, although the world is still green with summer. And I feel an urgency to gather in all the loveliness of the

past blazing days and star-cool nights and keep

them forever."

Gladys Taber

September is a gentle shift into Autumn, particularly this year as the sun shines most days, and the temperature drops gradually. One morning I put on socks to pad around the house for the first time since June. How cozy they felt. 

On the coast where we live there is some colour, but not the dramatic flaming hills that we enjoyed on our trip across Canada two years ago. Most leaves continue green, but a few trees blaze, calling attention to themselves. 

"The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everyone that 

summertime cannot last forever."

E. B. White, Charlotte's Web

Cyclamen blooms in the woods despite the continuing lack of rain. That may change this weekend as a shift in the weather is on the horizon. 

The deep harsh rasp of a crow perched in the neighbour's tree is another sign of autumn. There he sits, loudly proclaiming his presence to all and sundry. 

Yesterday, while working in the garden, I heard a loud buzzing noise just above my head. I looked up to see a hummingbird dazzling with colour - emerald and pink - hovering above me. He flitted here and there for some time while I stood and watched. 

I cut most of the Red Kuri squash and pumpkins from their vines. A few remain on the ground as I hope they will ripen just a wee bit more. Pumpkins stay in the fields here through October, so I'm not too worried about them. My tomatoes were abysmal this year, not yielding as much as usual, but the winter squash have been amazing. We'll enjoy them roasted and in soups for the next few months. The green beans continue for a bit, but will soon wither and brown. Greens such as Swiss Chard, Kale, Beetroot Leaves and more will carry on.

I clipped one sunflower this afternoon. It was falling over and I thought it would look prettier in the house, in the turquoise blue recycled glass vase. I don't mind that the sunflowers have been slow to grow this year for now I can enjoy them as the remainder of the garden slows. 

I collect bits and pieces from the garden - a few cosmos, one small dahlia, and the very last of the sweet peas for a pixie-sized bouquet. How fragrant it smells. A few remaining coloured hydrangeas were cut to grace the mantel. Most of the blooms are dry and pale now. These will dry in the vase as the water evaporates and I'll have them for the winter ahead. 

It has occurred to me more than ever this year how hard our foremothers worked to prepare for autumn and the coming winter. Harvesting and preserving the garden produce takes time. They would have worked from morning to night to ensure their families had food throughout the cold months. I've frozen vegetables, preserved peaches, made a few pickles and plenty of jam, but we would be in a very sorry state if we had to rely on what we've produced. 

Wishing you a most lovely Autumn weekend. 

Friday Favourites on Saturday

 

There we were, walking with friends along a wooded path. As we approached a couple standing very still, they put their fingers to their lips, then pointed upwards. In the middle of the afternoon (do owls suffer from insomnia?) a Barred Owl watched us from a branch just above our heads. I think Tim could have reached up and touched him. We watched each other for several minutes, the owl and I, then his feathers fluffed and he flew, low and silent, so close that Tim felt the wind of his wings. A magical few moments. 

I clipped a bouquet of Lichfield Angel Roses from the bush that keeps giving and giving. Creamy pink or salmon, depending on the light, with a delicate fragrance. They made me smile every time I passed through the dining room. Those particular blooms are now spent, and I will cut another bouquet today.

"All in all, it was a never-to-be-forgotten summer -

one of those summer which come seldom into any life,

but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going..."

L. M. Montgomery (Anne's House of Dreams)

Slowly, slowly summer changes to autumn. It's autumn in the morning and summer in the afternoon. I keep a light sweater handy and pull it on when I walk. Yet it's still so lovely to sit on the patio with a cold drink and enjoy the garden later in the day. Cosmos dance in the breeze and the bees - my how busy they are - buzz about the dahlias. The birch tree leaves are aging to a dull yellow-green.

The vegetables continue to produce - green beans to share, tomatoes, kale, carrots, onions - so much delicious goodness. The basil has outperformed itself this year - huge leaves that are large enough to make into cabbage rolls. (Not that that is in the plan.) I've made pesto for the freezer and dried the leaves, shared with family, and am throwing it with abandon into any tomato dish and vegetable soups. And oh my, the apples! It seems to be a mast year. Along many streets there are boxes set out along the curb inviting anyone to take free apples. Our trees are loaded and I'm processing and sharing them as time allows. What's your favourite way to use apples?

"Dear old world," she murmured, "you are very lovely and 

I am glad to be alive in you."

L. M. Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables)

The world is indeed a beautiful place despite the heartaches everywhere. I am becoming more and more convinced that social media feeds the violence and nasty rhetoric so prevalent in the world. AI plays a large role in this. I'm restricting time on line more and more, and feeding my mind with the best and most lovely writing and images. 

This week I read a book by Caroline Moorehouse, Village of Secrets, about a French community who defied the Nazis and saved many children from certain death. It was not always easy reading and I wept for the little ones clutching their soft toys as they were led away to the death camps, and I rejoiced when others crossed safely to freedom into other countries. 

Other books read recently were Ann Cleeves Cold Earth, from the Shetland series, and J. L. Carr's A Month in the Country, both easier reading. Shetland is currently being reshown on our local public broadcasting station (Knowledge, available throughout Canada), and we are enjoying watching it. It's especially fun to recognize some of the places we visited during our day in Lerwick last summer. 

A small bouquet of the same Lichfield Angel roses for my bedroom. How sweet they are in the sunshine. 

With the cooler temperatures and the focus on indoor living increasing, I'm inspired to do some deep cleaning, clearing out cupboards and drawers, and rearranging things neatly. So satisfying. I began yesterday and will continue on. 

Wishing you days of golden light and sweet peace. 

Friday Favourites: Here and There

 

The deep rasping caw of a crow high in a treetop sounded like autumn this morning. When I walk into the garden I cringe at the invisible spider webs that I walk into between the tall beanpoles and the sunflowers. A few moments ago I stepped outside and saw the waxing moon glowing red from forest fires. All these things add up to a changing season. Although the days are very warm, even record-breaking, once the sun slips away, coolness descends. Summer when the sun shines; Autumn in the darkness.

We try to take a yearly camping trip, just a few days, with our family. The past weekend was the date we settled on. Tim and I went a day early and hiked to Hole in the Wall, seen above. The hole is man-made, drilled many years ago through rock to place wooden pipes to supply the nearby town with water. The pipes are long gone and water is sourced elsewhere, but the large hole is a definite attraction. We both climbed the rocky ledges and walked through the opening to the forest on the other side. 

"It was a lovely afternoon - such an afternoon as only 

September can produce when summer has stolen back 

for one more day of dream and glamour." 

L. M. Montgomery

On a hot day it was cool beside the shaded water. The air held the memory of wildfire smoke and we saw recent patches of fire damage. 

Once everyone else arrived at the campsite there was swimming, games, lots of chatting, and plenty of eating. We all take turns providing meals and it's become tradition that I make doughnuts. The deep fryer is packed when we know we have electricity, or else we use pots on the campstove. I make the dough, a couple of guys man the frying, and all the grands glaze and decorate. Our daughter-in-law keeps them under control. There is always enough to share with the neighbouring campers who can smell the donuts. 

Our youngest grand, Cora, begins kindergarten this year. It's a very gentle start, 90 minutes, then building up to all day. I collected her this morning after her short stint in school, and we went to Butchart Gardens. I laughed when she told me that the statue lady above was cold and needed a towel to wrap around herself. 

"Summer is dressing herself in showy dahlias 

and splendid marigolds and starry zinnias."

Oliver Wendell Holmes

Dahlias are the stars of the garden just now with so many varieties. Both Cora and I liked this pink one with the bee on it. We rode the carousel and enjoyed a little lunch in the coffee shop. A fun outing.

Other activities this week included blanching and freezing 5 pounds of green beans, making pear marmalade, and a peach galette. How delicious it was to enjoy a piece still warm from the oven. Next up is apples. Our trees are loaded this year, with plenty to share. 

I plan to make the most of these golden days, enjoying the fleeting days of warmth. How about you?