I am made for autumn. Summer and I have a fickle relationship, but everything about autumn is perfect to me. Wooly jumpers, Wellington boot, scarves, thin first, then thick, socks. The low slanting light, the crisp mornings, the chill in my fingers, those last warm sunny days before the rain and the wind. Her moody hues and subdued palate punctuated every now and again by a brilliant orange, scarlet or copper goodbye. She is my true love.
A recipe for Rowan Jelly by Alys Fowler (via wearyvoices)
Do you know what I need? To escape into the mountains, surrounded by tall trees, I will lay on the moss, and breath in the scent of mushrooms, flowers and wet soil.