Hampstead Rambling in the Snow

Angela and I are off work this week, as it is half-term here in London.
Half-terms come around every few months, but it was 1937 when it last snowed in London in October.

We put on our walking boots and walked a circular trip around Hampstead Heath via Kenwood, the Old Bull and Bush, West Heath, the Vale of Health and Parliament Hill, finishing with lunch in the Italian Cafe at Parli Hill.

It was amazing how few people we encountered.


The sun sent halos of light through the autumn sky


You could see that in snow, shadows are actually blue


And it seemed almost as if we had come upon the spirit of the Heath itself, energy writhing in tree form


All in all, a stunning day.

Autumn Vine Leaves

Our grape vine, Vitis Brandt, is not really designed for it's harvest of grapes. They are tiny, pea-sized. But at this time of year, the rich colours just demand a post all of their own...



I'm off to the West of Ireland soon, to meet my better half. This time I will take my card reader with me. Valentia here I come! More soon, with photos hopefully.

The Season of Mist and Mellow Chutney-ness

There really is something in the air. Just as I was posting my paean to all things pickly, Amalee came up with her own post. I feel a cheese and chutney sandwich coming on...

Chutney

As the evenings get longer and cooler, the Phantom's thoughts are of capturing the summer in preserves. Last Sunday was devoted to our annual chutney making session. The tomatoes, some barely bigger than peas, were from our garden, mostly from window boxes in fact. The apples were from my Mum's neighbour. The tree is more in my mum's garden than it's owner's!



There is something magical about chutney, such uninspiring ingredients brought together with breath-taking amounts of vinegar, producing something so rich and complex...



The finished result, dark, mysterious. Just three months till we can open it!

Autumn Sunshine

Today was one of those fine Autumn days which start off misty and then burst through into a crisp sunny celebration of life. In our garden the mild weather means we still have perfumed roses scenting the air.



Our pelargoniums are still glowing red in the sunshine.



And in the shade at the end of the garden the last of the wild foxgloves keep their secrets, hoods bobbing gently in the freshening evening breezes.