" Flames have always been at the heart of it all. Flames to sit around and read, a place for conversation. A fire is a magical thing. The...

" It is a time of richest sensation: the sights and smells, obviously, and the way its daily varying temperatures makes the skin...

" I will cut adrift - I will sit on pavements and drink coffee - I will dream; I will take my mind out of its iron cage and let it swim -...

" October is the best month when you live in the woods and maybe when you don't, but I wouldn't know. It's when the trees start to shake...

" Damsons are ripe in early September, at a time when the garden paths are festooned with spiderwebs and the leaves start their slow...

" August is the slow, gentle month that stretches out the longest across the span of a year. It yawns and lingers on with the light in...

" Summer did come at last and, when it did, it was one of those summers of poems and stories and country pictures, a once-upon-a-time...

" If spring is all about looking forward, and autumn about dying back, summer surely is the present moment: a long, hot now that marks...

" It was a brilliant spring day; the day was radiant. Even the air seemed to have a burr in it, as it touched the treetops; it vibrated,...

" She takes a deep breath of the autumn air, crisp & peppery, fuevulous & sweet, she feels it crackle down to the bottom of her lungs....

" Autumn is my season, dear. It is, after all, the season of the soul." {Virginia Woolf} If you've been around here for very long, you'll...

what glorious days these were. dappled light. crisp mornings. trees laden with the lustre of ripening fruit. air lingering with whispers...

" It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning. A painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless,...

" ...moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind blows cold through the broken battlements and...

" ...everywhere birds building, flowers budding, leave thrusting - everything happy, and progressive and occupied." {The Wind in the...

" Like a tree, creative work has seasons. Part of the work is to know which season you're in & act accordingly. In winter, the tree looks...

" Spring returned. Birds followed ploughs. Stones were warmed by the sun. Rains and winds grew softer, and were fragranced with the...

these February days... a soft wind stirs through the trees... shimmering, shifting wintry light the crisp, effervescent air caressing my...

" ...that fleeting pause when time bends and magic hovers between the main celebrations of the seasons... spontaneity and softness become...

:: the quiet revolutions of winter :: winters arrival the still point of this every-so-quickly turning world a quiet beckoning this...