Before the rains came, on a sunny autumn day, a Wednesday, we took a walk in a garden by a river. A beautiful garden in a magic valley. And we found the remains of a pumpkin patch, a decimated wildness of creeping green and the last of the bees, of trees like a golden splendour, where the sadness of leaves has blown the last breath of summer away, a cold frost that nips and bites and scolds.
And as we exclaim over Judith's 'grandmother' pumpkins all puckered and gathered like weathered dames, our voices meet the wind, tussle and dance away in the air above. And we ooh and aah over the most perfect shade of grey-blue ever seen, so perfectly flattered by this, it's dandy orange neighbour!
And there inside, in the quiet lull of the wind, we can almost hear the murmur of sweet pumpkin voices as they nod to one another, this way and that, and grumble of cold and damp and frosty nights.
So the rains come, and the weekend has arrived. And the little children have counted the days, gathered their costumes, made their plans. And we have colcannon and barm brack to look forward to, with treasure hidden inside. What will you be doing?
Happy weekend to you all!
11 comments:
In a large city we don't have so many winding roads. It's more straight grids. But every road leads somewhere, every corner turns to a new surprise. For us, the grandboys and me, at 4 this afternoon as the sun's rays were stretching out thinner and thinner, it was jack 'o lanterns on porches that weren't there yesterday, piles of pumpkins and gourds on porch steps, scarlet leaves drifting down so lazily towards earth. Talk of monsters and goblins and trick-or-treat. A beautiful afternoon stroll full of Halloween wonder! :)
What a lovely lilting snippet of a day. Magical! We're looking forward to trying your recipe for barm brack this weekend. I have a feeling it will become a new tradition for us!
:) lovely post. we're havng a halloween party this weekend and, according to the weatherman, more rain in the next 24 hours than in the past 2 months!!
It's a Halloween party for us on Sunday. A houseful at our daughter's, with 15 cheeky children to share the fun with.
More of your barm brack, I think, and could you share your colcannon techique, she asked cheekily?!
We saw a good grey-green in the lichen on Stonehenge yesterday. Do you know, I didn't realise one's not allowed to touch the stones? Where have I been?
And, once again, I am transported to another land, another time. How beautiful: those pumpkins nodding and chatting while the days draw in and the wind blows cold.
I want to be Ciara when I grow young.
That comment from Sixteen Chickens is perfect - you're growing young, Ciara, while the rest of us succumb to life. And your tea brack came out of the oven an hour ago here, and turned out splendidly.
Am wondering what barm brak is (very curious actually , sipping hot chai on the closing of a day and wishing I too could stumble upon a pumpkin patch such as yours on a cool and windy day.
Funny most pumpkins here are dusty grey green or a very very faded orange (and they seem to be in season 12 months of the year). Bought by the slice for soups.
What a lovely piece of writing. I've just found your blog and have become the next of your many many followers.
We call those whitish pumpkins 'ghost pumpkins' here!
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