Nature Photography & Fine Art, card & print making
Well, a bit of a shock to wake up to frost on Friday. A wake up call to the fact we are starting to go into colder months.
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
J.R.R. Tolkien
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Sarah Coleridge
days
hours minutes seconds
until
Christmas Fair
“October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.”
J.K. Rowling
Hope you all have a good Halloween. I’ll be sitting in front of a roaring fire watching something spooky on television with my pumpkin curry!
Gourd!
That’s a lot of veggies!
I had a visit to Nunnington Hall & Gardens which is owned by the National Trust. Their botanical displays were absolutely gorgeous. Here are just a few of the many, many displays. If you want to find any information about Nunnington or any of the National Trust properties/gardens please click here.
Latest Instagram posts – check out the video of the gorgeous piano playing. I will be posting that sometime this week!
Zzzzzzzzzz
Well my answer is yes, I’m feeling really exhausted and I’m so ready for a few days off coming up soon. I haven’t really been out with my camera taking any Autumnal shots yet. I’m hoping that next week might have some really lovely days so that i can go out and take my camera out again.
“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
“In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.”
T Pratchett
…Is the sunniest spot in the house!
The Cat of the House by Ford Madox Ford Over the hearth with my 'minishing eyes I muse; until after the last coal dies. Every tunnel of the mouse, every channel of the cricket, I have smelt, I have felt the secret shifting of the mouldered rafter, and heard every bird in the thicket. I see you Nightingale up in the tree! I, born of a race of strange things, of deserts, great temples, great kings, in the hot sands where the nightingale never sings!
It was a beautiful bright autumn day,
Diana Gabaldon
with air like cider and a sky so blue you could drown in it.
We all grow tired eventually; it happens to everyone.
Joyce Rachelle
Even the sun, at the close of the year, is no longer a morning person.
SJ Butler Photography 