To Autumn by Keats:
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness...
I've had this phrase from in my head now for about a week and it really is a wonderful time of the year.
There is a huge bounty of things ripe for picking in the hedgerows. I have picked enough blackberries for two batches of bramble jelly, the cobnuts are just about ready to eat. There are masses of wild plums and sloes along the dog walk. Elderberries and rose-hips just waiting to be turned into wine.
I love all the seasons but this is a particularly good time of the year for those of us who like to forage and get "stuff" for free
Sorry to wax lyrical but it's often the simple pleasures that are the best.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness...
I've had this phrase from in my head now for about a week and it really is a wonderful time of the year.
There is a huge bounty of things ripe for picking in the hedgerows. I have picked enough blackberries for two batches of bramble jelly, the cobnuts are just about ready to eat. There are masses of wild plums and sloes along the dog walk. Elderberries and rose-hips just waiting to be turned into wine.
I love all the seasons but this is a particularly good time of the year for those of us who like to forage and get "stuff" for free
Sorry to wax lyrical but it's often the simple pleasures that are the best.
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