Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
The final week of the summer holidays and I had hoped to get a last little bit of stitching done, but instead have been painting the house and setting up my class – oh well! At least there are the dog walks and the mornings have been lovely recently. If timed just right then the early morning mists lift just as I hit the lake – and if you are feeling peckish the blackberries are quite abundant this year.