And suddenly its a time for waking in the darkness, pulling on deep soft jumpers, layers and toasty thermal socks.

Then, the patient wait for the light to lift beyond the far south eastern horizon, bringing slithers of pink and apricot hues through the trees, clinging to the last of their curling leaves….

Its mild this November 1st and we can easily believe we are still in Autumn but a walk around the garden uproots any doubt that winter is creeping up on us. The once vibrant Rubeckias and Echinacea are melting away to mud browns, a Goldfinch feast. The cobwebs that drip from the now heavier dew, desperately calling to be photographed, provide a platter of aphids escaping from the summer into a Blue Tits beak.

Clouds of corvids take to the skies, chattering, calling and coming home to thier roosts, boosted by the years new young they gather and forage together, connected.

By November 20th the winds have blown through, the temperature finally drops to a finger numbing minus 3 and thats it, Winter has arrived. Leaves that gathered in damp corners are now tipped by Jack frosts sparkles and he stays all day reminding us of the shortness of our daylight hours.

November is a time of remembrance, reflection and renewel.

I collect branches of curled Oak leaves, gifted by the recent storm, Rose hips, plump and prickly and seed heads from umbels picked clean by hungry birds but still beautiful in their skeletal state. These things i bring indoors, my nod of remembrance to an abundant but difficult year.

Samhain

 November 1st is Samhain, a Celtic Pagan festival to mark the end of harvest, summers end. I have read that this marks the New year on the Celtic wheel of the year and was believed to be the beginning of Winter. There was quite a heated debate on the radio, over when seasons start and finish here in the UK and no-one came up with a definitive answer it depended on which calendar you followed. For someone who likes to do things ‘right’ i once would have found this maddening, not having a set date when i should be at least trying to mark the season change. But in the Celtic calendar they seem to miss Autumn entirely! heading straight from Harvest into Winter.?….they more likely observed the weather and nature, and the festivals (fire festivals) actually mark the moving of the Sun not the seasons as we know them, and this way theres something to celebrate every 6 weeks rather than four times a year. Samhain was a time when the veil between worlds was believed to be thin and it became a time to remember those gone, this is probably why Novembers stillness always holds a sadness. But, it also marked the turning of the wheel into a new chapter, the constant reminder of the circle of life … death and renewal. We only have to walk the garden to see this before us, falling leaves, fading flowers all endings that will become new beginnings even in the garden soil.

So whether November is Autumn or Winter it doesnt matter, i’m now choosing to watch the natural world and try to connect myself to it in a more meaningful way. This November i watched as the leaves finally left the branches bare, the rich ambers and golds of the landscape gently easing into coffee and charcoal skeletons. I saw the birds returning to my garden feeder, the crows return to the fields along with the Buzzard picking for worms.

I allow myself to be led by these things instead of calendars and diaries. I begin to slow down and notice the small moments.

Moments when one day you suddenly notice the air somehow feels and sounds different. I usually feel autumn approaching in late August or Early September, it may be hearing a Starling chuttling on the roof top, the morning dew becoming heavier and clinging longer to the grass in a misty sheen or simply noticing the shadows growing longer in the garden. I can feel it coming and my body seems to sigh, finally the madness and intensity of the year is waning and we have the perfect excuse to slow down. 

November seems to be the month that the air changes again, it has an edge that bites at your nose and eyes, now we drift into Winter.

Into the garden…

The garden offers us a chance to connect with something deeper, something bigger than us, we can feel that connection in our thoughts while we work. If we just listen.

Each month i want to look at the ‘jobs’ that we are doing in the garden and think about how we can do them consciously, ask ourselves why we are doing them and maybe if we listen carefully we can find meaning in them in a way that helps or heals us. At the very least i’m trying to find that connection to the natural world.

Mulching

Mulching, the art of laying a dense, rich layer of nutrition onto our depleted soil. This isnt always necessary, depending on what you grow, but even a little helps. Think of it as your hard working body needing a thick cosy blanket and a hearty casserole, to nourish and nuture, to refuel your depleted body.

In nature this happens with the leaves falling from deciduous trees and plants onto the soil below and slowly overwinter and beyond the worms and mycelium will begin to bring them within the soil structure.

In the beds at Easton Walled Gardens we heavily grow annuals in our display beds and these take a lot from the soil, so to expect the best next year we must mulch and rejuvenate the soil.

A concious thought while doing this could be that we are preparing the ground for the next chapter, next Spring. What within ourselves do we need to nurture? any dreams or hopes for next year we can feed? do we feel tired? do we need to rest ? i guess also, the term ‘putting the garden to bed for winter ‘ is often used and where some may think of this as clearing away everything and making it tidy, it could also be that we cover the soil to protect it during the harsh winter months.

I feel the need to do this myself, to put on layers (and yes fat ones) eat more and cosy up by the fire, to protect myself as we enter the dark season.

Pruning

Pruning. November is time to make a start on pruning Roses. We always start with the climbers and this can be a wonderfully meditative task, focusing on where stems are trained, crossing or growing outwards, what needs to be removed. Can you guess where i’m going with this?

As a time for reflection maybe we are called to look at what we may want to cut out of our lives, what doesn’t work for us anymore? are we growing in the wrong direction? As i prune i often think back over the year, how beautiful and scented the blooms where with the warm summer sun upon them. This last year i remember one frantic day feeling frazzled and i caught the scent as i rushed by, but it made me stop and i love that line ‘stop and smell the Roses’ thats what i did.

So i try to promise myself that i need to slow down more and grow in the direction of savouring my surroundings.

Bulbs

Planting bulbs…. now is the time to get the last of the bulbs into the ground or pots so that they can begin to put down roots over the dark winter. This job offers us to ponder rebirth.

Bear with me on this.

Before we start planting bulbs theres the wonderful process of planning next Springs display. A time to drool through the catalogues like sweetie shops offering us delightful dreams in every shade possible. This process is, quite simply to think ahead to what we want to achieve next year. Once we have ordered and taken delivery of the bulbs they sit there patiently waiting for the moment, the ignition of that dream when we gently place the bulb (our hopes) deep into the fertile soil and then submerge it into darkness for the winter. This is where the magic starts sowing a seed of an idea.

During those deep dark winter months when everything on the surface looks grim and lifeless the roots are beginning to form, stretching gently downwards finding nutrients to grow further, deeper roots, strengthening and holding the bulb firmly building a strong solid base from which to grow.

Just as we withdraw inwards this time of year to rebuild our strength, dream of ideas and build ourselves a strong base from which to grow next year.

Come Spring as the natural world emerges into life, the bulb and us will begin to reach up to the light ready to shine. I admit i cringe at the cheesiness of this but i feel its truth inside me, or see the connection between nature and myself. There is meaning in the garden and in simple routine tasks.

So November is a time for reflection, maybe a melancholy feeling of loss. A time for us to begin our inward journey, copying the natural world. Feeding up ready for the onslaught of another year, as the birds are doing. Releasing anything that just doesnt work for us anymore. Resting begins….

If we allow it.

Side note… This is my first blog on my discovery of refinding my connection to the natural world through the garden. Im finding myself and my voice so please bear with me. Im sowing that seed now as November is the time to do that and hope i will grow into the writer i hope to be in my next season.

much love