Time passes… we’re beyond Samhain and Winter Solstice; the year flies by. Through the thinning veil and beyond, galloping towards Imbolc at a mind altering speed.
Already life is pushing up below ground… crocus, belladonna, even daffodil are pushing through the frozen ground… rain has eased the way of their passing from below into the light of extending days and shortening nights.
Calendula flowers opened just post Solstice and crocus are lending a splash of colour, albeit all too short a journey. How bizarre is this. It’s only July.
I have been absent… sorry. Family matters and the loss of two family members, plus a couple of friends, kept me otherwise engaged with the process we all face through our lives… that of grief. All their passings coincided with the sixth anniversary of our eldest daughter. We have decided that May and June may not be admitted into our calendar anymore… I see the sign, ‘no admittance granted!’ I may have to invent some, fill-ins to replace the two rogue months but sadly, they also hold several family birthdays that certainly can’t be ignored.
GRIEF…
Scoured clean
Hollowed out
Grief is never prepared
Loss and despair
Relinquishing control
giving self over
no sense to make
Lives take their course
What is the source
that gives
but with little warning
takes
Time heals
perhaps
but even then
the momentary lapse
takes control
gripping the soul
opening the wound
to the edge
in a forgotten pledge
to never forget
never regret
a soul-walk
a soul-talk
before passing
Surrender
to the light and dark
in equal measure
pain and pleasure
…we are made of both
Surrender
to wellness
that boosts your joy
your immunity
and sickness
that forces you to stop
when you will not
there is no impunity
Surrender
to the world you see
beyond the personal lens
of how you think
life should be
Each believes
their truth is relevant
just as you
ask your gods
to be benevolent
we cannot know
the journey of another
even when
it appears either gentle
or malevolent
Surrender
to the interlude that is you
grow
in the seeded space
of the silent observer
…without agenda
Life continues, the family gathered and we find home in each other’s company and shared grief…
HOME…
Just as we evolve
and grow
a building
thrusts itself aloft
Foundations sunk
into the earth
our feet should seek
this depth
…to strengthen
and yet, to sink in
…to survive
against fire or flood
Warmth
inside a building
…a home
in all the wordly toil
and so
with foundations
in the soil
we hold steady
Heart and hearth as one
…to nurture
…to feed
both brain and belly
To love
to give solace
to those in need
Soaring rooves above
and under eaves
an attic snug
from those same
foundations dug
…grown, to shelter
from the rain
and in that loft
our brain
can assemble anew
safe from those storms
that brew
In this solid structure grew
the plans for family
A building
wrought through work
with ancient timbers, honed
by skin and bone
…a home
Walk softly… let yourself grieve… Awen /|\
Photography, art, and words copyright Penny Reilly, all rights reserved.
Lughnasagh came and went… autumn equinox dawned and sped away. We had a really dry spell but this week a cold, wet front came through and everything is immediately green again as if a switch was flicked into icy cold overnight.
Our air up here is so crystal clear, sunsets are legendary and already the first frosts are making themselves felt rather early this year. Our twenty rolling acres are green again.
Now, as we hurtle towards Samhain nights are becoming longer, daylight hours shorter. At this time I always feel as though I get so much more done in these shorter days because its cooler to work outside but snug and blissfully warm in both studio, barn-house and the new greenhouse. It seems after waiting so long for the second one to be built, suddenly in moments planting began and seed trays are germinating in their little seed raising unit. What a bonus to add space and length of time to our growing season.
Our haven, our bolt hole, away from the noise of even our small local town, is frankly, bliss.
Some folk are made for city living, seeking out the dubious thrill, noise and the appearance of an abundance of choices as to how to while away the time when not working the proverbial 9-5 in TikTok time. I guess I see that more like filling in time, frankly.
Food and fashion fads prevail… influencers tell people how to look, think, speak, what to eat or not eat and how to be in the world to be seen, to be recognised. It’s a trap, because really… you don’t need anyone’s recognition if you know and accept who you are. I firmly believe my work sells because the right people find it, not because I’m putting myself out there as ‘special,’ but rather different, as we all are and uniquely so. Isn’t it more positive to be different than to believe we all have to follow the masses and be the same as… the natural progression of that would, possibly, be cloning!
Food has also in my eyes, as a one-time restaurateur, serving simple but wholesome food, become a rude and elitist business with crazy fads and prices as people seek new flavour experiences, constantly. We all need to eat but what goes on a plate as a serving size of food is often obscene and much is wasted, particularly when we know some can’t make ends meet and that one meal would be several servings for them. On the other hand, high-end restaurants serve tiny portions of foam and schaum with splashes of this and that and a sprig of green. I wonder how many people, still hungry after paying a small fortune, end up buying a takeaway to fill their near-empty belly.
It doesn’t feel as if many are truly looking at the naked truth of food… it’s to feed the body and if we have choices in flavour and selection, it’s a privilege to be so well fed. Food should be blessed and savoured but for me, simple is best, where each element of the meal is full of the true flavour of the original item. A fresh bean or tomato, picked still warm from the sun makes me wonder, other than the obvious need to keep food fresh, why cold food has to be freezing, robbing it of flavour and vitamins? (That said, food miles are another huge issue in keeping foods fresh and vitamin rich, but that’s another story.)
Then there are those who avoid the plastic glamour of it all to grow the city-folk food that then becomes no longer ‘in’ enough anymore. Farmers multitask their crops and growing seasons to suit the latest fashions of food-faddery, and it’s hard enough growing large crops as it is. First Kale, then Chia, Wheatgrass, Blueberries, Cranberries, rare fruits and mushrooms etc., became the thing to keep one young and vibrant… dubbed superfoods, too much of any one of them can be toxic to many.
What happened to less is more? Potatoes, and dairy are spurned… only to find that kale has more tannic acid than rhubarb… calories and proteins are needed to build muscle, unadulterated dairy for strong weight bearing bones and a moderate balance of all food groups is the key. Skinny does not necessarily equal healthy, either.
In my experience, veganism can often equal elitism… would we be so fussy if there were only potatoes, meat and dairy available because crops of the “in-foods” had failed? Something, even a tiny, humble bug, is killed or displaced when we harvest plants and would that fat rabbit, feral pig or deer, be ignored if hunger knocked at the door? It strikes me as worth thinking about, what a human would eat to prevent starvation.
After a good table grape harvest this year, the surplus is dried for raisins… a wonderful supplement for snacks, on a cheese platter or reconstituted in curry sauces. So much food goes to waste and it’s preventable… don’t throw your surplus or leftovers away… dry, freeze, preserve, every little bit. A full pantry is a joy to have and no food waste is the result.
Hens supply our unfertilised eggs, (no rooster) they eat our kitchen scraps and get to clean out the greenhouses at the end of a season… they provide manured mulch for us to add to our grow beds to grow yet more food each year… a natural cycle.
Our hens are loved as part of our tribe and they have a huge expanse of orchard garden to find natural proteins and greens, and also clean up windfall fruit and any bugs that damage them, supplemented by a complete layer mix of seed and dry grasses in winter. We protect them by only letting them free range when we’re outside with them and lock them away from predators at night. They are a huge part of the garden workings and their eggs are sublime. We don’t eat our hens but as stated before, if anyone is starving, well?
Self-sufficiency is not about squirrelling food away for times of lack, but there’s an immense satisfaction in a simple way of being that focuses on seed to shoot, to bud, leaf and fruit that is grown in abundance to share around a table with friends and family. Contrary to those who would rather buy from the supermarket because everything’s there in one place, the taste is beyond any store bought foods… and vitamin rich, as we’re sticklers for keeping our soil healthy too.
What would happen
if we all wanted less
less mess, less stuff
less electricity
less commuting
driving, travelling
What if
we stayed put
for a while…
grew our own food
as much as
the local climate allowed…
traded what we couldn’t grow
recycled, repurposed
redesigned stuff
that otherwise
goes to landfill
What if
puffed up lips
fingernails like talons
and “perfect”
designer figures
were no longer
a must have
to suit
someone else’s ideal
What if
muscle and lean flesh
came naturally
from working in nature daily
What if
hopping on planes
to sit in the sun
elsewhere
was replaced by
sitting in the sun
talking with
a lonely neighbour
locally
What if
instead of complaining
that “they”
should do something
about the carbon footprint
whilst driving to the shops
to buy that new
influencer-touted item
that will change your life
made in sweatshops
on the other side
of the globe
What if
YOU
were to do
all you can
…and then, within it all we’re surrounded by the creatures who inhabit the land and we do all we can to keep that happening as a natural progression. We live with and interact with them… they have huge tracts of forest and wetlands around but they choose to be here in close proximity to us.
I refuse to prescribe to humans as a a virus or an oversight in nature… it’s a strange way of seeing ourselves as superfluous to the equation. Yes, we have done extensive damage to many lives, many creatures, with our selfish view of development at all cost and are paying the price with climate change and the extinction of millions of species, as we delude ourselves into thinking that we are more important than any other life form. In so doing, we have upset the natural balance of a planetary, multilevel ecosystem and are paying the price for greed.
We work with nature and the creatures around us and I’m happy to see a growing movement of people aspiring to return to a simple way of living in balance with, rather than in domination of nature. We preserve life here but also protect our gardens and the food we grow because we have an equal right to live and eat. This way every living thing is fed and nurtured…
Listen
to the sounds
between the notes
howling stark
through rising dark
and whispers soft
…born from stillness
spun aloft
on fierce winds
that bring
the song
of life and death
carried on every breath
through eons
…across time and space
in a wild
cosmic movement
leaving nothing
in place
only the illusion
of separation
hidden
in the music
between the notes
…listen
Walk softly… be aware of all of life as equal… Awen /|\
As self-sufficiency and homesteading skills are shared (and methods sold) across social media, verging on hysteria, I need to say, please don’t get sucked in by the romanticism set before you. It’s not about going backwards to the Middle Ages, rather to embrace old ways of being and bring them into this century. Many apparently, don’t understand the concept of off grid living, assuming we are completely without any form of electricity at all… this is a myth. A good solar unit generates as much power needed to run a normal household. Fridge, freezer, computers, TV, lighting, power tools, my studio tools, etc., etc… we live simply but not in the dark ages and are careful not to overload the system with unnecessary gadgets. We don’t, for instance own a dishwasher (water catchment and storage are more important)… and, we have two pairs of hands.
Words are often thrown at me, such as, ‘you’re so lucky’. Well, sorry folk, there’s no luck involved, it’s methodical planning. It’s sometimes extraordinarily hard work to feed a community from a veggie patch, greenhouse and orchard. It’s weather dependent; seasonal, so it means planning ahead… it means growing what you like but also what grows well and in season, in your particular area. It’s no good my attempting to grow mangoes in a cold climate anymore than Brussel sprouts grow well in far North Queensland… and then there is the pests and predator balance to uphold.
We dreamed for many years as our children grew and set out on their own life path. We grew our own veggies and fruit to some extent and had a few hens but with four growing kids and us both working full time… you know, rates, mortgage, utilities, car registration, insurances, school fees and uniforms and running around madly taking the kids to one place or another. It was a busy life and our dream was on hold to own acres of rural land. Where we lived was like a mini trial run for the farm.
Things suddenly changed… the kids were gone, we both had jobs that we weren’t particularly content with and as things would have it, we found ourselves on the brink of making that change.
Many years ago, we found our acres in Victoria in the forested and rolling green hills, with an old derelict, 100 year old plus, barn and a derelict dairy. It’s a long tale as to how we found and acquired it, but I’ll save it for the book, currently in the writing process. (Watch this space, as the saying goes.) Needless to say, it’s a magical tale, but luck really has nothing to do with it, and we still had to work to pay for the land and for setting up the farm.
We dreamed and fulfilled our dream and then the hard work began… renovating, building greenhouses, planting an orchard and fruit vines… none of which was free. Self-sufficiency is a hard won lifestyle… we saved and had a state of the art solar system installed, which we never regret spending our money on. Even so, there are still rates to pay, a tractor, fuel for tractor and hay/grass slasher, hen feed for winter, storage containers for produce, a freezer, a dehydrator, a water pump, a generator for auto-backup in uber-cold winters, when the sun is a bit light on, (despite a battery array for storing electricity), and not to mention the cost of building everything, (and we used as much recycled timber and iron as we could lay our hands on) such as bathroom, kitchen, a plumber, a solar electrician. (A must to do properly for certificates.)
Our barn/build reno, we designed and built ourselves, but then there’s planning and building permits, site inspections…. And, and, and!
Often people are caught up in the pretty pictures on social media of women in flowing dresses and straw hats skipping between overflowing, perfectly manicured vegetable beds, with equally manicured fingernails and full makeup! Photos of buffed, bronzed young men, scything and bringing in the hay harvest, single handed, while children and women, serve lunch on gleaming platters, smiling smugly and all clean and tidy… this is Hollywood style.
Then there are those pics and reels of women in floral aprons, mixing and baking, chopping and filling glass jars, with not a stain or a sticky batch of cores and peelings to be seen, when a very messy kitchen is far more the reality of homesteading. Super clean, but very messy and outside in the garden, nature is messy too, not neat rows of equally sized plants, denuded of weeds around them. There has to be biodiversity, companion planting for natural bug control and a wild garden to me is the prettiest garden but none of the above are reality. Gardening is becoming a part of nature, not controlling it… or a least attempting to and that’s a fools game.
I paused while writing this to take a short break and, lo and behold, there was an ad for an online course on Instagram on how to decorate interiors in farmhouse style. Once again, I collapsed in giggles… this is not a show or a rehearsal for life… it’s real; make it your own!
So below are a few very random shots of our barn interior… clean, often a little untidy with kitchen doings and goings on… the dining room table is covered with greenhouse plans for the new build in progress but I haven’t photoshopped, or teased to make it idyllically pretty… but it is… it’s home, it’s us… and my kitchen window has a view to our northwest boundary and the dam.
Anyone beginning this journey needs to find a middle road between fantasy and reality. Yes, a healthy body is the result of constant work outside in the fresh air, and we may well sit outside at sunset with a luscious platter of homegrown produce, but often by that time, we’re happily exhausted and often quite grubby, so dinner and a movie are often the more likely outcome to day’s end.
But then… I pause again at stove or sink in my very rustic kitchen, to listen to the birds call, admire a vase of fresh-cut roses and bunches of herbs hanging to dry. I watch the creatures that come and go through our farm from forest edge across to forest edge on the other side and I smile… because the hard work, while dreaming, working with and watching, all this life, is worth more than a hefty bank balance, it’s worth the dirty hands, muddy shoes, and wet winters. A constant cycle of observances like seasonal rituals of abundance, (most years) emerge and gratitude overflows for the fact that we dared to take the steps needed to slow the pace of our working years, moving us into a loose, rhythmic dance of life…
Waiting
for the world
to shift a gear
to slow the pace
of a working year
Slow down
let the season
show the way
drifting
into shorter nights
a longer day
Let go
the thought of chores
instead
honour what you have
what is yours
Make each moment count
appreciate the quality
not the amount
Let go
the broken thoughts
the lost dreams
the might have beens
Refocus
your misted-over dreams
as a silken breeze
indicates the change
open windows
take stock
rearrange
Think less to control
allow the flow
meander
ramble on
waiting for a heart response
Hold what is dear
close there
in a silent prayer
of gratitude
then breath
…let all else go
So don’t be fooled… this lifestyle is a philosophy about doing our bit to help this beautiful planet recover from the dreadful things we’re continuing to do as a species, and in full knowing that we’re killing the only place we have to live.
Recycle, refurbish, renew, reupholster, repurpose. Celebrate what you have.
We grow food that is free of any additives, unpackaged, raw foods, full of nutrition, (because we take care of the soil to keep it rich in nutrients) because seriously… there is no Planet B. But, if this life calls you, don’t be disillusioned, get dirty and creative, grow your own food and reconnect with the seasonal tides and shifts… dive in and feel free to chat if you need an understanding of the process we’ve experienced everyday for nearly thirty years and we wouldn’t change a thing… not even for a photo shoot of me in a flowing dress, silver hair loose and tangled, skipping through fields of wildflowers… and although I can/could… it’s done in secret without manicure or makeup, accompanied by hens and a crazy wee doglet… 😀
Author of nine books, with number ten on the way, and a professional artist/photographer and herbalist, you can also find Penny on Instagram and Facebook.
Morning dew settled on the grasses, creating tiny prisms of light on every blade, leaf and tightly closed wildflower. The second week of March already, and just nine days to Mabon/Autumn Equinox/Alban Elfed, and this morning was the closest to a frost despite more ominous weather warnings of another heatwave… for us, that means barely 30, but for others it’s a continuum of wildfires and waiting for the autumn rains. A nice drenching now would certainly be a bonus.
The Welcome Stranger swallows are getting ready to leave, filling their bellies with a myriad of bugs that have emerged in the warmer weather… they’re most welcome to any fierce March flies they can catch!
I captured them in conversation, perhaps about which route to take this year… far north of our southern eyrie or wherever they will head for winter. (The Debate… Ink and graphite with water wash on cotton rag.)
There are other wonderful creatures that have arrived though… perhaps because we are a cooler clime and pollen is widely available from both cultivar and wildflowers. Numerous black crickets, a Giant Green Slant Face and a Spotted Brown Butterfly… the latter two of which, don’t belong in our region, but the greenhouse is also full of nasturtium and tomatoes still flowering, tended by the honey bees, wild natives and butterfly, alike.
As I planted I sang to myself, as I’m wont to do. High trilling notes joined my chorus and a tiny scrub wren sat watching me… probably hunting tiny insects disturbed by my digging in mulch and soil, but her rippling song, lifted my spirits high.
Writing my next book has become a very intense and lengthy task, and I’m nowhere near where I want to be, but it’s taking me into more uncharted waters that are harder to share in words… I’ll persist, slowly but surely and in between writing I create some of the art and poetry that will accompany this Journal of Wild Spirits…
Our bees are happy, foraging far and wide and apparently completely heat resistant in the high temps we’ve experienced, until today. Sunflowers are covered with feeding bees and there’s nothing like the taste of raw honey. 🍯
Not so happy in the heatwave was a tiny long-eared bat, who clearly exhausted, excepted water from a soaking cloth before escaping into the open air as the afternoon began to cool. A distress indicator is seeing a bat in broad daylight and usually means hunger, thirst or a need to escape when trapped inside a house.
We’re used to micro bats living with us for most of the year, coming and going under the eaves of the house, then slipping between the walls into the rooms, but this was a little larger, quite friendly for all that it was probably terrified. I imagine it got in but couldn’t slip back out where the tiny micro bats come and go with ease.
All the signs of equinox are here, with hedgerow crabapples, fresh onions and herbs in abundance… tomatoes are still producing and rhubarb is just on the verge of ending… it’s a busy time in both kitchen and garden but the heat has slowed everything down.
After a ten day heatwave, crickets (both outside and in) and frogs are singing in duet, the mist is rolling in bringing much needed moisture and cooling has happened rapidly as we dropped from 27 down to 16 in a heartbeat.
There’s a curious air of something coming… like the stillness before an earthquake occurs somewhere in the world… as a sensitive I pick up on these phenomena and feel as if I’m vibrating right along with the silence as frogs and crickets, birds and the wind become absolutely still… not a breath but the mist creeping across the hot earth.
I took a wee sabbatical and it’s been a couple of weeks since my last post but brightest blessings for 2024.
Family gatherings have been high on the priority list and with their departure it’s been more difficult for me to get myself back into a routine of daily writing. It’s been an interesting time, social media and blog free and very tempting to remain so but as author and artist it’s ‘the way’ to maintain a presence and to, as we all have do, make a living… although I try not to push my work on my followers and subscribers.
Before we knew it, another year passed and we’re half way through January. Flux and change have been the predominant aspects of these last years more than ever and I think we all may need to reimagine our lives, even reinvent ourselves, to find a simpler way of being that encompasses change and allows for more of a flow through.
Perpetual flow
rolling in
season to season
Blessed days of sunshine
rain and shadow
reflected
in how we
walk our way
in balance
wading
through emotional
waters deep
or rivulet shallow
or exhilarated
dive
immersing self
into life
and grounded
let seeds fall
in fields, once fallow
Needing less, wanting less, declutters our spaces, just as it declutters our entire lives… freeing us from having to maintain and care for items long redundant. I’m really not saying we rid ourselves of cherished items, loved for many reasons or to live the lives of monks and nuns, but rather to see how clearing space of physical things, also clears our internal space, our very consciousness, of so much neediness. There are always others that truly need what we hang onto, senselessly. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions quite honestly but this could be just the one we can easily adhere to… letting go those out-worn things.
We started our yearly declutter in the pantry, cleaning and checking use-by dates on home preserves or canned good and checking that dry goods such as flour or cereals were not invaded by weevil. What a simple task and yet what a lovely feeling to know our pantry is clean and renewed… actually making room for this year’s harvest as it comes around.
This is abundance for me… fruit and vegetables, flowers in bloom; mostly those that provide sustenance and that can be frozen, dried or bottled/preserved in a well stocked pantry that is constantly used and replenished as produce is harvested. No clutter to be seen ☺️
This year our olive trees flowered profusely but whether they will produce after the very cool wet summer we’ve had is another matter. Their scent is wonderful and their bloom so delicate and pretty.
As the summer season heads towards autumn at a frightening speed. and Lughnasadh is but three weeks away, hay harvest is done and there is an early chill on the air… although our summer’s are getting cooler and more like those of twenty five years ago. Our deciduous trees are changing their cloaks of green to amber hues very early, dahlia are in bloom and autumn berries are already ripening in the hedgerows.
…and so the wheel turns on again, birth, renewal, harvest, death and rebirth cycles on and on… where do you find your peace in the war-torn landscape of life?
Hay harvest, my favourite time of year when summer peaks, not that we’ve had much of one, but I for one cherish the feel of an elongated spring that seems to stretch through to winter.
Our farming neighbours take the hay, clearing our fields just in case we have a dry spell when fires are more prevalent and snakes slither through more often… their livestock is in turn, fed on rich grasses and clover in winter.
By Lughnasadh, second harvest on 2nd February, we will organise a locals gathering for our little community. A sharing, great company, good food and wine and a time to say thank you for the abundance we share.
Berries will be harvest ready in batches… they pair well with local meats and cheeses. Fresh tomatoes will be coming on too, beetroots pickled and pesto blended, caramelised spring onion dip created, all made to smother on crusty bread… nothing fancy, just fresh, home produce…
There’s a magic and mystery to the time of year as things grow and pull back, release and renew only to release again… it’s not always obvious unless you live as closely as we do to the land and the cycles. As I sit writing, there’s a scent drifting in the windows of earth, wet grass, roses, lavender and sage flowers… bees are busy; hens are wandering through the orchard and we have a respite for a few hours from the rumbling thunder and accompanying wind and rain, still heard in the distance.
Still, I’ve managed to plant more lettuce and marigolds, harvest onion, coriander and parsnip seeds for another cycle of growing… meanwhile, David has put together another hencoop for the new girls when they come on to lay.
Nothing much going on here 😀
Early this morning there was a mizzly-drizzle, covering everything and reducing visibility to zero but it steamed off leaving the exquisite scent behind of oak moss.
We often have four seasons in one day!
ENDLESS DREAMS
In the mists of time where all made sense of the rhyme there are sounds that stream like an endless dream …passing in notes sublime Who were they who walked the Old Way to where did they stray when they left that day You can hear them still put your ear to the hill …you’ll hear the wild music they play Rhythms grow the trees dance and blow in an unseen wind off the heath Drums rumble summoning from beneath The earth splits wide pouring out the Fae ride …their songs they do bequeath Walk softly, they sing let joy your notes bring to a world that is cold …a world grown old Let go your fears treasure passing years …let go, no need to cling Joy will return, Bellies fed, passions burn as their music slowly returns Let your feet tap and glide while their gentle notes slide Fill to the brim …your soul that yearns
Wild, my environment… and the closer I grow in understanding and awareness through its changing face…
…with warm wishes and blessings for the holiday season and beyond,
Sorry, sorry… it’s been a while… late February and the season is already shifting from summer into autumn… a strangely cool summer and wet, too. A week or so ago there was a major storm in our region but once again, it skirted around our hilltop home acres. Let’s hope today’s storm warning does the same, although a drop more rain now would be wonderful to top up ponds and rainwater tanks. ‘Beyond the Gate,’ feels like a place centred in the magic of the earth and the kindly spirit; the Genius loci, is one of benevolence, strength and protection.
The last few mornings has seen us veiled in peat-scented, eucalyptus-perfumed, mists. Temperatures have been dropping from mid to high twenties, down to five to six degrees overnight… a very early change indeed as February has the tendency to be the hottest, summer month even in our naturally cooler climate. Not so however for surrounding areas, sadly, as wildfires rage, about ninety kilometres away, with great intensity.
At this time of year, creatures begin to go to ground… curling up in the long and probably exhausted sleep, after the courtship rituals and birthing of new generations is complete. That said, I saw the strange sight of a brand new wood duck, duckling family very late in the season. This couple lost almost their entire first clutch in spring to hawk and fox, so second time around is hopefully the charm, with nine wee ones as shown below.
Hedgerows are filled with crabapples, blackberries, rowan, hawthorn and elderberries… sometimes I feel as if I’m back in the Isles on an autumn day, where we would forage along country lanes and across the wild fields of my childhood… perhaps our deep connections from one place to another, links us on the byways between worlds… opening portals to remembered places of well-being and allowing the recall of those days to manifest elsewhere.
All things and places in the pathways of our mind are linked to another… everything is connected, spreading out to infinity like a tapestry of shining threads. Perhaps the Fae of those past days along with our ancestral culture, follow us down these lanes where our spirit was the happiest.
There’s a doorway
that takes us
to a timeless space
where all that we dream
may be found in one place
Offering ourselves
to the byways between
brings truth to our journey
to where we’ve already been
We can never go back
only here in the now
do we remember those times
when we made a sacred vow
to walk the crooked pathways
turning left and then right
beyond pain and pleasure
beyond the fear of night
to journey out of the darkness
into the warmth
…of Her light
…and so the season changes, the year moves on, hurtling towards Mabon/Alban Elued (Light of the Water) or autumn equinox to many.
Our harvest time is abundant… cabbages, lettuce, tomatoes, blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, apples, rhubarb, onions, garlic and soon, pumpkin will form on the vines and table grapes, too… not to mention more herbs than we could possibly use, are hanging to dry in the dark, to retain their colour, some to be made into pesto to freeze. I’ve begun the process of making preserves, freezing and drying to top us up with fresh produce for winter.
This year, so much has been achieved already with groundwork done for a second greenhouse and four young hens added to our small flock as the older girls ceased laying… they will enjoy their elder days, foraging in the garden and still providing wonderful nutrients for our soil.
Everything in balance… to harvest and replace, equals renewal!
Perpetual flow
rolling in
season to season
Blessed days
of sunshine
and shadow
reflected
in how
we walk our way
in balance
…wading
through emotional
waters deep
or rivulet shallow
or exhilarated
dive
immersing self
in life
and grounded
let seeds fall
in fields
…once fallow
I promise to attempt to be more regular with my posts… summer/autumn are naturally busy times Beyond the Gate and in the quieter places between, my work continues on the tenth book, Wild Spirits Live Beyond the Gate… a book of days and new art, photography, poetry and text are currently simmering in the creative cauldron.
Summer is upon us, the hay harvest is early. Up here, the hills are mist veiled. The city, a little over an hour away, is showing summer temperatures 15 degrees warmer, when the norm used to be approx 6-7 degrees more than here.
Our view over the Wombat National Park across to Mt Wilson, swathed in early summer mists…
Climate change is no myth and although there are varied and major factors to contend with, making it quite possibly beyond repair, there is still the evidence of forest and green vegetation pointing the way to holding off what is otherwise, sadly the inevitable.
Growing trees creates a cooler environment naturally. We are completely off grid but use no electrical cooling system, only open windows and doors and leafy foliage that shades our converted barn from heat in summer and gives us sunshine into the house on sunny, wintry days. Cost? Zero! Carbon footprint? Zero.
Some folk are made for city living, seeking out the dubious thrill, noise and the appearance of an abundance of choices for how to wile away the time, when not working in the proverbial, 9-5 tick-tock time. Food and fashion fads prevail… influencers tell people how to look, think, speak, what to eat and be in the world and the latest gadget to buy to make them super-cool. Social media and related advertisers are dictating choices that will make us better, stronger, more desirable and invading our online social hours in the meantime, following and trolling our every move to see which ad they feel is appropriate for us. Even meditation apparently, can’t be done without the latest head set and app, when nature is right there to walk or sit in, to meditate and be at peace in, without contrived methods.
Too many are forgetting how to ‘simply be’ in the world.
Sometimes the best we can do is be Sometimes when the world of humankind collapses into apparent insanity trying to see with clarity is an impossibility Sometimes retreat is a strength because we feel we are making no difference merely adding to the mayhem with our disbelief that another can hold such darkness inside they can harm another soul Sometimes the best we can do is be live a simple uncomplicated existence Become earthed and grounded centred in the wilds of nature where we see that even nature isn’t kind merely consequential for not being alert Be responsible only for the self-actions and self-thoughts that lead to self-discovery for another’s way will not be changed or understood without seeing through the same lens Breath look deeper sense with every filter of reason Listen to the silence within and without where noise becomes a backdrop holding all we need to know …for sometimes the best we can do is simply be and in being become at one with all that is
Food has become a rude and sometimes, elitist business. Crazy fads and extortionate prices, trick people into seeking new flavours all the time, having them believe this is the cure-all for everything that ails humanity, when in truth all we need to do is eat less, include all the food groups appropriately, exercise moderately, depending on age and health issues.
We all need to eat but what goes on a plate as a serving of food is obscene, particularly when some can’t make ends meet and one meal would feed several… the rest, wasted; sent to landfill instead of becoming available to the needy or at the very least to green compost.
First Kale, then Chia, Quinoa and rare exotic berries, were the thing to keep one young and vibrant… dubbed superfoods; too much of some of them is toxic and how much of them is actually more than enough at one serving. Potatoes, and dairy are spurned… and now we find that kale has more tanic acid than rhubarb.
As lush as for instance, nut milk might be, it’s advisable to look at how it’s produced and the additives in many of them, not to mention the fact that if your really need nut milk, you can make it very easily yourself. Buyer beware… convenient, pre-cooked, overly processed foods are the worst for dodgy fillers, flavour enhancers and chemicals.
Then there are those of us who avoid the plastic glamour of it all to grow the city-folk’s food or simply our own to share, that then rapidly become not ‘in’ enough any more.
Farmers multi task crops and growing seasons to suit the latest fashion-food-faddery and have to ditch tons of fresh food that supermarkets reject because they’re a little out of shape or ‘nature kissed’ by heavy rains, frost or hail.
I grew up in the UK, where any fruit or veggies, bruised by the weather had the bruises cut off… good food was simply not wasted, particularly, post-war and was never a fashion fad.
We are conned into believing that because components are assembled to make solar powered grids that the manufacturing of those components is also green! Are the factories that make them fueled by solar and wind energy or straight off the overloaded existing coal/oil-fuelled grids.
Under what conditions are the Tesla EVs made, we need to ask, that is, if we can afford one in the first place. Take a look where your gadgets are made and where lithium comes from… ‘green washing’ is real and do you truly need a new phone or other such device, every year?
We blame creatures for methane output but barely look at our own toilet emissions, from billions of people globally (that far outnumber animal and bird droppings), steaming off in effluent treatment plants into the atmosphere. Then there’s our carbon footprint, our legacy for jetting or touring around the world seeking magical experiences forgetting to look at what is right in front of us, right here and now… NATURE… take notice!
I feel as if so many people are missing the point, running around trying to please everyone, ‘influence’ others to impress or make themselves feel better and the pressure is building as to what these ‘needs’ are doing in the way of manufacturing when too much ends up in landfill and worse… such as plastic pollution, found in the guts of fish, birds and other species… probably including, most of us.
She doesn’t need us but we’re homeless without her.
Her heart is silent Soul-wings now frail She heals the suffering of others and in turn will ail But she will find her way to the edge of time …hearing the night calls following the rhyme and rhythm of life as it ebbs and flows to the circle of stones where the Magick knows all the answers hidden deep in her soul She will find her way to the edge of time at the very cusp of night and day where the Crooked Path leads her to her goal deep within to the edge of time remembering …knowing grows illusion falls away Her soul-light glows
…and how dare we be so fussy, when we have so much, in comparison to those living in a war-torn, starving and homeless world!
…so, wee rant over!
I have previously mentioned in a past post, my grandmother’s back garden and the shared spaces to grow food for the whole urban block she lived on… child care was free and the whole block knew where we all were, too and care of the ageing was a community thing. My nanna lived at home until she passed away as did her neighbours as they aged.
Will you change your ways and add to the movement for a sustainable and more community based lifestyle? Even in the city it’s a possibility with green community squares, rooftop gardens, shared and combined back yards to grow food and for children to play. Simply take down the fences between!
Walk softly… think twice and think again… Awen /|\
Summer arrives with a blush… a rush of colour. Raven, magpie, sparrow and wren loudly proclaim the hatchling’s break out and columns of ducks, bill to tail, troop around the orchard and gardens, down under the gate and through the fields to the ponds, taking the little ones for their first ‘ducking.’
Hawthorn and rowan are finished flowering and tiny berries form. Elder is in full flower, their scent delicious.
There’s the sense of a rush of activity so as not to miss out on the season. Life in this little slice of wildling country is a joy but also a great responsibility and yet this alone brings up conversations had and specifically, with purists, who believe nature in Australia should only be indigenous to each region… I often reply… ‘Well sadly, birds and other creatures don’t recognise our boundary rules and if we were to remove every flora and designated ‘plant in the wrong place’ we would then have to remove all European edibles too, such as apples and cherries that too, grow wild in the region and are foraged by many in autumn for fruit preserves.’ Would they then resort to eating only bush tucker, I wonder? Our limited indigenous species would actually suffer more as a consequence and wild trees such as the aforementioned hawthorn, rowan and elder, if removed, would take away habitat and food from adaptive birds such as local parrots and lorikeet who thrive on their presence. Daily, we have lovely swamp wallabies visit to snack on rosehips when in season and… hmmmmm! A conundrum indeed but I guess, it’s another example as to why, as humans, we segregate ourselves into them and us by race, creed and/or religion.
Can we not simply live side by side and forge different ways to accept and even celebrate our differences, marvel at our diversity, instead of turning them into devastating wars that benefit neither persuasion. Then what would the warmongers do in their spare time if they can’t play top dog, one wonders? (I’ve not seen deer and kangaroo fight!) Perhaps the wealthy oligarchy might add a few million to help the starving and homeless and claim fame in that way… the fame they obviously, narcissistically crave?
There are moments in a day when things become translucent. When light falls specifically on one blade of grass, a water droplet, a bee’s wing, ripples on a pond… a fragile leaf. The world slows down, stills and white noise of the world falls away. All that’s left is the ebb and flow of life… a heartbeat song.
Senses stir
Ruffled fur
A bird floats
on a thermal
it cannot see
but feels
lifting its wings
A breath of air
A scent on the wind
A salty tang
An ozone explosion
Changing leaves
A changing song
A sultry breeze
Ripples on a pond
A falling feather
Forgotten bones
A place where
one feels the need
for silence
A chill on the skin
Ancestral walks
with kin
Trees whisper
in words
no longer understood
in the
forgotten language
found
in the dappled light
in the sacred wood
in the dreaming pool
of life itself
Life continues in cycles and circles… moon rises and sets, dandelion puffballs separate into tiny seeds and fly away on invisible updrafts… a kookaburra chick learns to chuckle and cackle, making me collapse into giggles and an Imperial Swallowtail sips on Buddleia nectar… did they all originate here? Do they fight amongst themselves? If they do it’s for survival, not from personal malice regarding being, looking, believing, thinking, differently.
Although it’s officially summer, our surrounds are misted in and Fae-like, with heavy dew on the ground. Sometimes it feels as if we live in a space between worlds.
We read of the terrors in the world, violence, climate change, fire and flood, seismic activity, war and famine. A return to the old ways of our ancestors is well and truly a viable proposition in these extremes.
Because of our cooler climate in the hills, we grow all our vegetables and berry fruits in a greenhouse (soon to be two) and only potatoes and green crops for digging in to feed the soil are grown outside, along with fruits such as plums, cherries, quince, apples, pears, alpine strawberries and hardy herbs that love the cooler weather.
We have wild hawthorn and elder aplenty, both elderflower and berry make medicinal extracts for winter colds and flu and wonderful culinary syrups and wines.
A tiny space can be used to grow fresh foods, no matter where you are and even a little wall of hydroponic grow beds is better than nothing. A row of pots on a balcony or verandah will ensure things like lettuce or rocket greens and tomatoes are in abundance.
Strawberries, rich in nutrients, are a snap to grow in hanging pots or strawberry planters.
My grandmother was self-sufficient in fruit and vegetables in a suburban garden in London. All the neighbours grew something different and the whole block shared the produce. Eventually they had gates between, so everyone would help each other out and kids had more room to play. They shared an air raid shelter through both first and second world wars. My great grandparents started the journey and my grandmother (her husband lost in the first WW) looked after both them as they aged and raised her two daughters, my mother and aunty, in this loving environment.
As we, my sisters and I came along and others on the block, child minding was a community affair and everyone new exactly where we were and that we were safe. Post war, it was a simple lifestyle and sharing garden space created a hub of activity and friendship. I spent a fair bit of time here with my nanna, who gave me the groundwork of what became my lifestyle of choice.
I grew up through my formative years on a farm in West Sussex until college years. My parents were busy academics, but the garden there was also a lifestyle they chose. We were surrounded by dairy country and orchards and my young days were filled with the natural process of seed sow and grow, production and harvest both on the farm and in a London, back garden community, cooperative. An absolute win-win for this nature child.
We weren’t pampered children and were taught that if we wanted something we had to save for it unless it was an essential they provided. We were taught to respect what we had and to look after it well. Good, fresh, homegrown food was a privilege and we were a part of the growing seasons and cycles wherever we were.
So… what if we wanted less… not less of those vital ingredients such as a roof over the head, clean water, good food, fresh air, family and friends in healthy relationships but less of the stuff world media says we have to have or we’re simply not good enough?
Will a bigger house
feed your children
Will a sports car pay the rent
Will your expensive habits
be the cure
for a twisted mind
drug-ridden and spent
Will killing a neighbour
or a stranger
give power to your
lethal pain
Will beating your partner
make you better
…make you sane
Will you be a better person
because you follow
the brigade
of having over giving
forgetting love
is how we’re made
When the chips fall
and the ‘thing’s’ broke
cos it’s cheap
and shoddy goods
will you reuse it
rebuild it
renew it
or chuck it in the woods
With the world’s pollution drastic
simple living overpriced
workers underpaid
the oceans drown in plastic
what do you need
what will you save
What is important to you
at the end of the day
the throw away things
the glamorous trims
or the love-strewn
nature’s way
Life is nothing to do with having ‘stuff’ if we have our basic needs met… and if we continue buying into the world of plastics and throw away goods, our planet and a myriad of species simply will not survive…
Penny Reilly, all rights reserved.
Penny Reilly Artist Beyond the Gate 
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