I have mixed feelings about outdoors. With my fair skin I need to be careful in the sun, but the British weather can be very unpredictable. Trampling in the rain, cold and wet and muddy or icy underfoot isn’t necessarily my idea of fun, but then neither is blistering heat, so I am very unlikely to be found on a beach in Spain in the middle of summer getting a tan, because I burn to a frizzle and then peel rather than take on a nice colour. I camped a lot in the past, but am less inclined to do so nowadays. My idea of a holiday abroad, if not visiting family, is to see historic sights and I have a list I am slowly working through, a bucket lists of sorts. I am far more likely to be found holidaying on our soil, with my mother, when she comes to visit and spending time with her crafting.
Walking in the countryside is good and I am slowly exploring places nearby, and revisiting ones I like. Some of the photos on my blog come from those trips out. I am not keen on being bitten by insects, but I do like being outside in the fresh air, particularly in non crowded spaces, like parks. Even just driving through the countryside is nice and I like to observe the contrasts of the seasons as I visit the same places again and again.
Having grown up overseas, in a place where the vegetation was mostly evergreen, I still marvel at the change of seasons here. I like the crisp winter mornings with the mist enveloping the skeletons of trees, branches bare, and in some cases, the dense mass perched in the branches marking where birds nested the previous spring to raise and fledge their young. The first hints of spring come with the blooming of the snowdrops and then the slow transition of colours, one after another as time travels through crocuses, daffodils, tulips and bluebells, before the blossoms on fruit trees add patches of white and pink to the landscape. Now the leaves start to appear and not long afterwards the pollen. Stopping recently at a motorway services on a windy day, that pollen was very obvious, dancing in the breeze. Summer and the nights are longer, and more flowers bloom, now in a riot of colours. We have a buddleia bush in our garden and it is certainly earns its nickname, the butterfly bush, so many flittering over it. One of my favourites is to see the later summer poppies on the roadside. And then, almost suddenly, it creeps up on you, the green of the leaves fades into yellows, oranges and browns before dropping to create an autumnal carpet. For me, I notice it mostly as the now dead and brown flowers of the buddleia drop onto the car. The night closes in, wrapping each day in a dark blanket earlier and earlier and all seems almost bleak, although Christmas and the New Year give reason to celebrate, and those trees which are skeletons once more can play host to twinkling fairy lights. We wrap ourselves up in scarves, hats and gloves and wear thick coats, and create our own little clouds as we breathe out, our warm humid breath hitting the cold air. Then just when one starts to despair that the cold will never end, those first hints of snowdrops come again.
Visit Didi Lou Crafts at https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/DidiLouCrafts to see these pots and many other items inspired by nature.
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