The last few weeks have been crazy and now that we are in Ocyober, the weather has turned cold, wet and stormy. In between rain and wind, I’ve been out collecting the last of the hazelnuts, haws, blackberries, elderberries and sloes.
I’ve been lucky enough to receive bags and bags of apples from a friend and have made dozens of pots of various jams and sauces, photos of which I will upload soon. I have also made apple pies, crumble and hope to make my own apple cider vingear and maybe dry some apple slices for the winter.
I’ve been drying my hazelnuts out on the stove and storing them in an airtight container as I plan to grind them down and make my own hazelnut chocolates as gifts for christmas so will let you know how that work out!
I will dash again but I will leave you with a suitable poem by Yeats.
The Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among the long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.