Mellow

This years' season of mists and mellow fruitfulness has been delightful. The colours so deep, rich and warm. It has always puzzled me that some don't like this time of year. It can be cold and windy ... but the scenery makes up for so much.

The first verse of Keats poem to Autumn, which my husband loves and often quotes at this time of year:

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

The tranquility of Dryburgh Abbey managed to reach deeply into my heart - refreshing those neglected corners. It's easy to understand why the monks of old, saints from earlier centuries, chose this place for contemplation and prayer. Though the ravages of the reformation and conflict have left ruins, the timelessness marks of the Creator remain. In our very busy lives - some might say too busy lives it is good to take time aside for restoration. Here is a place to which I will return.

Even Wizzy was delighted with her outing - we were furnished with a special biodegradable doggie poo bag!