Monday, 12 September 2011


I love all the seasons of the year, summer not to much as (when we here in the UK are lucky enough to have...) too much sun & the associated heat. I think now about my friend John in Australia, & I wonder if he experiences the diversity of seasons that here in England we joyously have. Sometimes we experience all 4 seasons in 1 day!! I reflect that now, as our leaves being to tumble down from the myriad of tree types in Highbury park, spring is approaching in Australia.
Autumn does however bring about a tad of sadness for me. I reflect upon that the year is drawing to its close, the green & the lovely bright colours in my garden will soon be no more, & I wonder what will be different next year?

I'm lucky enough to have a plum tree at the bottom of my garden & as usual now I have made jars & jars of golden plum jam which I'll give away to anyone who wants one(!). I still have lots of plums left-wind falls as well as those surplus that I've picked. I read a story some time ago about a group of railway engineers who were repairing the track in Nottinghamshire (or somewhere) & they came across a number of oldish apple trees along the side of the tract. They apparently wondered how come they came to be growing there,& it transpired that when the track was first laid by the Irish Navvies in the late 1890's they threw their old discarded apple cores into the grass...the rest is easy to see!
This inspired me. What I do is throw my windfall plums over the garden fence into the wooded area of Highbury Park where, I hope, they'll grow. Then, some years later-long after I'm dead & gone plum trees may grow & bare fruit! I can hear people now as they walk their pets thru Highbury Park-" I wonder how those plum trees got to grow their...?  I've taken this one step further though: I've been collecting acorns, conkers-(Horse Chestnuts) seeds from some of the plants in my garden  & I throw theses too into wooded areas of the park(s). I guess its debatable that I could be considered a hooligan, but I consider myself some sort of conservationist!
This morning we have strong winds that make the tall Poplar trees in the park dance & sway like drunken sailors dancing the Hornpipe, the noise of the wind  in their branches sounding not unlike the roar of the sea. The weather man on BBC Radio Four tells us that here in the UK we're experiencing the 'tailend' of hurricane Katrina-great comfort to the poor birds who are being blown around the sky like ninepins! However it does mean that there are more acorns & conkers for me to collect.
Speaking of conkers.....I remember as a kid going around to the local Horse Chestnut tree armed with a couple of big stout sticks &, along with a a few other kids we'd throw these sticks up into the tree hoping to knock down a few choice conkers to play 'conkers' with.
We'd take the best ones home, either baked them after soaking them in vinegar then thread them on a piece of string to play 'conkers' with at school the following days. I note now that there are lots of conkers actually left on the trees. Kids are no longer throwing sticks up to knock them off & for this I blame 'Health & (bloody) Safety: Kids are now forbidden to play conkers at school JUST IN CASE they may hurt themselves! What shite!! To be honest I cannot recall any child that I ever played conkers with sustaining a 'conker related injury'-Ah, the good old nanny sate.....protecting you from yourself. Madness, sheer madness.
Still, whatever you do this autumn, I urge you to look at the colours, listen to the wind blowing thru the trees because despite all the brutality & unhappiness about us, its still a beautiful world.


  1. I loved this post. Your descriptive writing style is like a warm afghan on a crisp fall day.

    Fall is my favorite season, I love the chill and the thought provoking moody weather of this time of year.

    Now you have given me a craving for Plum Jam lol

  2. We do have seasons; they're just a little different to the Northern Hemisphere. It's getting nice and warm now, thankfully. We don't have conkers, though. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of conkering. I remember coming out of the swimming pool in Harold Hill Essex and my mate, Spocky, trying to knock conkers out of a tree with his bag and it getting stuck up in the branches and us having to spend ages trying to knock that out of the tree with sticks. Oh, happy days.