Autumn in Devon
The earth turns, the seasons roll around, and so we head into autumn once again.
A good, crisp, clear autumn day, with the leaves turning golden, the air still sweet with the memories of summer, a juicy blackberry plucked from the hedgerow, and the promise of a hot drink when we get home, make for a joyous experience.
There I go, waxing poetical, but there’s something about autumn that brings out those wistful emotions. I think it must be something to do with saying farewell to the summer and preparing for the winter. There’s a theory that our ancestors revered shorelines along the edge of lakes or the sea, because these were places of change, the solid land giving way to shifting water. They were ‘between places’, perhaps symbolising change and impermanence, so people dropped valuable items into the water as offerings.
I wonder if our ancestors also revered the ‘between times’ of autumn and spring, the cycle of darkness and light, cold and warmth. Make an offering to autumn, perhaps with a great bonfire, and the spirits will help you to get through the winter. It’s interesting to wonder how much of the ancient ways have been passed on down the centuries. We now know that behaviours can be stored in our DNA. Are we so different from our ancestors?
It’s something to ponder as I spend the evenings by a crackling fire, especially if I can get my hands on an apple pie or an apple and blackberry crumble. Delicious.
Now I’m hungry, and I’d better go and walk Lottie before it gets dark.
I hope you like the photos.
The lane that leads up from our little village.
And the way home, although you wouldn’t know the village was there. Spooky.
On some days, you can be standing in the mist but see that it has lifted along the valley, giving a glimpse of a sunlit landscape that puts me in mind of Middle Earth.
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