Autumn

A thin coolness moves across the surface of the soil.
The morning chill has returned,
that familiar air long awaited.

The first days of autumn…
Rosehip and wild blackberry,
red hawthorn along the paths.

The mountains wake with crocus, wild hyacinth, and cyclamen.
In the meadows, dry grasses from summer still remain;
some have already found their place in glass domes.

The sun continues to warm,
but the color of the leaves has begun to turn.
The olives stand at the edge of ripening,
the time for gathering draws near.
From time to time, the wind cools,
whispering of the winter to come.

The soil feels dry,
yet deep within,
there seems to be something waiting.

Birdsong has grown louder these days.
Perhaps the time for travel has arrived,
who knows.

Morning now falls a little later.
At the foot of the old stone wall,
rosemary is still in bloom.

The season’s wildflowers
wait quietly
on other pages.

Dried grasses, small twigs,
traces left behind on the paths,
rest in glass jars
within the Cabinets of Curiosities,
unnamed.

Another season
has been entered into the garden’s notebook.
Quietly, slowly,
like a leaf falling to the ground.

✦ Autumn Squill
Scilla autumnalis

✦ Autumn Saffron
Colchicum autumnale

✦ Wild Cyclamen
Cyclamen hederifolium

Traces of the season’s wildflowers continue on the 

Wild Flowers of Türkiye page.

As autumn draws toward its middle,
the rhythm slows.

Things begin to find their own way,
and in October the olives come to ripeness.
Those meant for the table are chosen with care,
leaving a faint olive scent upon the palms.

November passes in quiet preparation.
Our wanderings for pine mushrooms and milkcaps
fall into these days;
each mushroom laid into the basket
adds a small tale to the season.

And then,
in our home as well,
a slow morning begins.

A slice of bread upon the table,
adorned with the violet-gold glow
of grapes warmed in butter.

Simple,
like a true autumn morning.

For more notes, recipes,
and stories that find their way to the table,
the Second Breakfast page continues here.

In the atelier, time moves more slowly.

Jars rest on the shelves,
lids open and close without haste.
Oils wait,
mixtures do not hurry.

In autumn,
soaps are made by the cold process.
Olive oil is heavy,
hands already know the way.

Clay colors spread across the worktable;
red, green, pink,
and the shades in between.

On some days,
small soaps take shape.
Those for the face remain simple,
those for the kitchen are made to endure.

As mixtures are prepared,
the temperature is watched,
time is kept.
While molds are filled,
silence is preserved.
The drying is left
to its own pace.

Over time,
textures change.
The same recipe
returns with another face.

The atelier,
in autumn,
works like this.

If one is on good terms with the seasons,
the taste of idleness becomes something else entirely.

In autumn,
moments are gently touched by music.
Small stories gathered along the way,
a film suited to the late afternoon,
a book drawn from the quiet of the shelf
become the natural companions of these days.
None of them ask for haste.

Idleness in this season is lived simply.
A candle is lit,
something warm rests by the window.
Soft jazz
mingles with the stillness of the room.

At times, a few lines are written.
At others, a small drawing is left upon the page.
These calm moments,
before they return to the flow of the day,
are quietly set down.

Such brief pauses
shape the day without calling attention to themselves.
Like a slow breath,
like a warm cup.
Asking for nothing,
yet leaving behind
a faint trace.

This is how autumn moves along.

✧ Movies
• The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (2018)
• Julie & Julia (2009)
• About Time (2013)

✧ Music
Oscar Peterson – Tea for Two
Agnes Obel – Under Giant Trees
Howard Shore – Bag End

Calm Jazzzz – listen on Spotify.

✧ Books

Gathered beneath The Old Oakshade Readers’ Society,
this quiet coven’s chosen books
await below with gentle notes and accompanying photographs.

This season moves at its own pace.

Tables are cleared.
Stories draw back into their places.

Winter is near.