On Sunday, Auri wanted to borrow my phone to take photos on her walk with Euan and Scapa.
They shut the road through the woods
The Way Through the Woods by Rudyard Kipling
Seventy years ago.
I am sure that I picked up the phrase “misty, moisty mornings” from Susan Hill’s “Through the Kitchen Window” many, many moons ago. She was describing those autumn days with mushroom blooming everywhere. It seems fitting for today.
The nights are drawing in, and the dark is lingering longer in the mornings. The trees are a riot of joyous colour, and there is definitely an increasing bite of autumn in the air. Contemplating the turning of the year, this old favourite sprung to mind the other day.
The girls and I had an hysterically good weekend up at Stempster, while Euan was away representing the family at a wedding in Dumfries and Galloway. At one point I was actually crying with laughter during an afternoon of games, which included the world’s most hilarious game of Cluedo (there’s a reason that it’s not recommended for three-year olds). Auri, meanwhile, also had an amazing time making crafts, riding on a train, and generally running rings round everyone; while Scapa thoroughly enjoyed exploring some new (to her) aspects of the Stempster vicinity. All in all, the perfect way to see in the new season.
Breaking camp in this way always comes with a hop, skip and a jump! All of a sudden everything is different, and if you’re going to move on you’re careful to make use of every single minute, you pull up your tent pegs and douse the fire quickly before anyone can stop you or start asking questions, you start running, pulling on your rucksack as you go, and finally you’re on your way and suddenly quite calm, like a solitary tree with every single leaf completely still. Your camping-site is an empty rectangle of bleached grass. Late in the morning your friends wake and say: he’s gone away, autumn’s coming.
Moominvalley in November by Tove Jansson