dawn cobweb

Loving this proper October weather: getting soaking wet on the ride home, ploughing through piles of multicoloured leaves, and stocking up on dry wood for the stove.

Trying to pick up my knitting needles again. I can’t even remember the last time I had a project on the go. It won’t feel like a proper autumn until I’ve got one started.

Enjoying the novelty of being an accidental pet owner: we seem to have inherited Tom’s class hamster. He’s adorably tiny and reminds me of childhood days building Lego houses and toilet roll tunnels.

dawn grass

Juggling the day job. Tom and I are both planning exciting changes to our work next year. But in the meantime, we’re squeezing it all in to our evening and weekends.

Listening to lots of perfect tunes from this Scottish gent. I’m reading his tour diaries at the moment and enjoying his relaxed simple patter.

So, before October ends, I hope I can share with you a knitting project, a new business, and a Scottish book review. Meanwhile, I hope you’re all enjoying the delights of this stormy autumn!

Green Space in the City

Even amongst the excitement of a weekend in foreign city, we can’t help but seek out the green spaces: a picnic in the park, sharing books and people watching, or the botanical gardens, almost empty despite being right behind the art gallery with a two hour queue to enter.

Seeking out the quiet sanctuary of Madrid’s Real Jardín Botánico (Consejo Superior De Investigaciones Científicas) might have had something to do with the rest of the weekend spent celebrating with Spaniards, where I learnt that 1am is considered an early night and three courses is only a third of the whole meal.  

We celebrated a wedding in Spanish style and caught up with friends we haven’t seen in years.  I loved sharing stories and plans, laughing and dancing.  And a quiet hour in a flower garden was the perfect coda to the weekend.  If you’re ever visiting a foreign city, either as a tourist or a guest, do add the botanical garden to your list.

Running Through the Autumn


Autumn is such a great time for running around in the countryside. Cooler breezes, muddy puddles, and rich colours. The days are still long enough to catch the last light up a hill after work.

Last Friday we ran this castle route (a favourite of Tom’s). The stubbly brown fields seem a world away from the hot yellow hay of a month ago. It feels closer to the winter runs of hammering rain and shin-deep mud. Half the fun of an outdoor adventure, is returning home and collapsing on the couch with a bag of M&Ms, and it’s even more satisfying when the outside weather is a little bit tougher. This is just the start of it..

opening_gatePrusts Run

(This particular run ended at a new burger joint in town. A cold beer and a big eat; now that has to be the ultimate reason to run!)


Saltwater and Wildness: A September Read


Ever since Michelle reminded me of the delights of an ocean dip earlier this year, I’ve been seeking out saltwater whenever possible. In celebration, Tom gave me this beautiful book for my birthday.

Peters shares stories of his various wild swims through each month of the year, interspersed with his thoughts on recovering from depression and the healing powers of water. He is clearly a water rat: searching out the hidden swimming holes on even the most unlikely of trips, and diving in with little regard for inclement weather. The photos are beautiful and the clear passion he shares for this pastime had even me, the most fair weather of wild swimmers, braving the depths this autumn.


Freshwater Bay is the perfect grown-up swimming hole: a steep shore that plunges quickly into deep water, with pebbles that leave the water crystal clear and encourage noisy families to head off to sandier bays.

The harbour is sheltered and there’s a small contingent of lifers: hardy old swimmers who are out here every day, their presence reassuring you that diving in is not completely bonkers.

Freshwater Bay Swim

I’m starting to see how addictive this wild swimming business can be. The ice cold shock of the first plunge pulls you in to a single moment, before the edge of the chill subsides and you’re left rolling about in the buoyant water like a giggling fish.

This is pure and simple joy, with added tingly-fresh skin, and the promise of coffee and cookies on the beach. Can’t get much better than that. It’s a revelation to me that this adventure needn’t be the sole preserve of the summer holiday.

Dip was a book that soaked in to my blood and gave me the courage to take a quick paddle even in this autumn chill. And I doubt I’ll be able to stop at one.


Standing Still


Like Tom’s class hamster on his wheel, it’s easy to start the autumn term at a furious sprint. With endless lists, appointments, and jobs to catch up on. Time can feel precious and squandered all at once. It’s easy to try to cram every minute with what I ‘should’ be doing.

I stopped by the roadside on my way to a meeting yesterday -just to wolf down a sandwich whilst replying to emails on my phone. After a short while the small-scale wildlife of the country lane adjusted to my presence and started going about its business with ever-increasing chatter. I heard the clicks of an animal poking through the undergrowth, the soft flurry of wings behind the hedge, a splash in a puddle, and the call of birds I wish I could name.


Just two minutes off the motorway, just five minutes of quiet, and all of this came creeping out to remind me of a different pace to the day: no clock-watching, schedule shuffling, or ‘asap’ing.

I’ve always been amazed by how quickly a breath of nature can calm me down. The quick arrest of the scent of eucalyptus, or the wind in an evergreen; it grounds me. I mustn’t waste my time rushing around, when all I need is right here in this one spot.