Smelling September

It’s difficult to put a smell across through words and pictures….but just three hours on the estate yesterday summonsed up the most perfect early Autumnal whafts.  

Firstly there was the late cutting of some grass for the sheep to munch over the coming winter.  (Whilst it’s easy to forget the seasons when you can buy a lettuce all year round for me it’s time to panic pick in the hope that this year, for once, I just might make the most of the free fruits that surround us here).  Then I had a sensational walk in the river as the tide started to come back in, and was gently surrounded by the smell of fresh seaweed as it wrapped itself around my ankles.

It’s absolutely my favourite time of year, except perhaps for late Spring, so instead of pining for Summer I look forward to scarves, seeing our breath as we talk, the shift in flavours and the smell of wood burning in the nearby towns and villages.  As everything changes in the natural environment the monotony of our digital lives seems so utterly dull and sterile I do wonder how we’ve become so dependant and enraptured by it all.   We were once alive with the shifts in season, kicking heels up in local festivals to mark the changes, supporting one another to bring in harvests and get ready for lean times.  And though I admit to being a hopeless romantic and that things were extremely hard, I’m certain that we’ve thrown the baby out with the bathwater by giving into the easy, virtual, mechanised life we now lead.

So for those of us lucky enough to have access to the wild in whatever form that comes in, let’s not allow ourselves to be put off by clouds, a chill, a spot of rain.  The rewards are too great out there.

Tractor turning hay
Boat at low tide on the river Erme