Z is for Zoe

 

A lovely little Greek word meaning life, vitality, being alive.

Autumn can look as though everything is packing up. Leaves are dropping, flowers are fading animals are beginning to think about hibernating but underneath all that, life is still going on.

Bulbs are quietly getting on with things underground. Seeds are waiting. Squirrels are hiding things and then immediately forgetting where they put them.

There is life in a mug of whatever takes your fancy, a warm jumper and a good book.

Autumn reminds us that life doesn't always have to be spectacular.  Autumn is itself.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this alphabet of autumn.  I wanted to focus on "now" just as my hibernaculum helped me focus on seeing all the wonderful things about winter.  I’ve enjoyed writing it and thinking of words to include.  I knew it would be challenging so the whole alphabet was planned before I started although some choices were  changed as new ideas occured to me.  It’s my fourth alphabet series and I think I’m getting the hang of them.  There might be a winter one sometime. 

Y is for yummy

There are words which sound intelligent. Nutritional. Gastronomic. Epicurean.  And then there is yummy.  Yummy never appears in restaurant reviews but it's the best possible response to home cooking.

Autumn is full of yummy.  Baked potatoes. Roast parsnips. Soup thick enough to stand a spoon in.

There is something wonderfully satisfying about putting a casserole in the slow cooker, and the house smelling of something delicious.

Then there's soup, the official food of autumn. A carrot, a courgette and half an onion that's been lurking in the fridge can all be thrown in.  You sit down with your bowl, some crusty bread and rather more butter than strictly necessary.

So here's to autumn: soup, crusty bread, butter, casseroles.

And here's to being old enough to know that sometimes “Yummy” is all the food criticism required.

X is for Xanthophyll

I can't tell you how pleased I was to find Xanthophyll to put in my autumn alphabet.  It's probably the most autumnal word in my list but I'd never heard of it.  And I would take any X word!

Xanthophyll is a natural yellow pigment found in plants.  In the summer it is masked  by chlorophyll which is the green pigment essential for photosynthesis.  It helps protect leaves from damage caused by too much sunlight.  As autumn arrives, chlorophyll breaks down. The yellow xanthophyll pigments remain visible, giving leaves their yellow and golden colours.  It's there all the summer and it's only towards the end of the life of the leaf that it is revealed.  

So now you know too!  (If you didn't already.)

A psalm for harvest

Psalm 65

 8    You visit the earth and water it;  ♦

you make it very plenteous.

9    The river of God is full of water;  ♦

you prepare grain for your people,

    for so you provide for the earth.

10  You drench the furrows and smooth out the ridges;  ♦

you soften the ground with showers and bless its increase.

11  You crown the year with your goodness,  ♦

and your paths overflow with plenty.

12  May the pastures of the wilderness flow with goodness  ♦

and the hills be girded with joy.

13  May the meadows be clothed with flocks of sheep  ♦

and the valleys stand so thick with corn

    that they shall laugh and sing.

W is for well, well, well

 

Here’s to a  Wonderful, Windy, Woolly Autumn

Well, well, well.  Here we are in autumn, when the weather turns wild, the wind whistles and the woods become a wonderful whirl of waving and wonderful colour. The world seems to have swapped its summer wardrobe for a warm, woolly, weatherproof one.

The weather, naturally, has its own wicked sense of humour. One minute the sky is wide and white; the next, a wall of rain is wandering across the fields.

Then there is wool. Wonderful wool. Woolly jumpers, woolly socks, woolly scarves and woolly blankets suddenly become essential equipment.

Autumn also brings warming things: warm porridge, warming soup, walnut cake, winter vegetables and wonderful cups of whatever takes your fancy. I settle down while the wind worries the windows.

The evenings are wonderfully welcoming. Outside, the wind wanders around the house, the rain washes the windows. Inside, I have a book, a blanket and absolutely no wish whatsoever to go anywhere.

There is no need to rush. I can wander, watch, wonder and wait. I can watch the leaves whirl across the garden, wonder where summer went and wait for the kettle to boil.

Autumn is a time to withdraw indoors, wrap yourself in wool and watch the world go by.

Well, why wouldn't you?

 

V is for vespers

I have to admit that I’m more of a Compline sort of gal than a Vespers one.  Compline is at bedtime: Vespers is the evening prayer and is a little earlier.  In the C of E we now have it as Evensong and maybe Compline later on.  I’m cheating slightly as I’m going to roll them all together with prayers in the evening to be my “V” post.  And it seems right to think about this in autumn.

There is something rather satisfying about the day coming to an end.  It may not have been very productive – that doesn’t matter.  It’s a day which I’ve spent with God whether or not I have thought about him and it’s a day I want to give back in prayer.  We spend much of our lives trying to squeeze more into the day. Vespers does the opposite. It says: stop now. The day is ending. You don't have to do anything more.

The formal service involves a psalm, some Scripture, prayers and, traditionally, the beautiful Magnificat — Mary's song of praise from the Gospel of Luke.  I use the Book of Common Prayer version with its wonderfully old fashioned language.  Sometimes the prayer can be as simple as sitting quietly for a few minutes at home and consciously handing the day over to God.  The world will manage, even if I stop pedalling.

Vespers invites us to look back over the day — not to judge it, but simply to notice it.  The things that went well.  The things that didn't.  The small kindness we received.  And perhaps the things we wish we had done differently.  Then we let them go.

I think there is something especially comforting about an evening prayer that has been prayed by Christians for centuries. Somewhere, in some church, monastery or quiet room, people have been watching the daylight fade and saying their prayers long before we invented electric lights, central heating and online shopping.

We still need to stop.  We still need to give thanks.  We still need forgiveness.

Some ancient traditions are worth keeping.

 

U is for umbellifers

 

Cow parsley

There are some weeds which I rather like.  I do have my standards but there is something rather lovely about umbellifers standing near autumn hedges. 

Umbellifers?  They are plants with umbrella-shaped heads made up of dozens of tiny flowers.

Queen Anne's lace

Cow parsley is probably the one most of us recognise, although by autumn it has gone from its frothy white springtime self to something altogether more skeletal. The flower heads dry beautifully, catching the low autumn light and looking almost like tiny pieces of lace.  Wild carrot does much the same. Its flower heads flatten and curl inwards as they age, forming those curious little shapes sometimes called a ‘bird’s nest’.   And wild carrot has the lovely alternative name of Queen Anne’s lace. 

T is for twilight

 

Tomorrow, 23rd September, is the autumnal equinox , that curious point in the year when day and night are roughly equal in length. After that, here in the Northern Hemisphere the nights begin to win their annual contest with the daylight.

In other words, evenings are drawing in.

There is something comforting about twilight. The birds become quieter and the whole world seems to take a deep breath.

It’s the time to light a gentle lamp and curl up with a drink or a book and decide that anything not done today can jolly well wait until tomorrow.

Twilight also makes the ordinary look slightly magical.  A few lights glowing in windows suddenly seem wonderfully welcoming.

The autumn equinox feels like a little marker in the year.  Summer is officially stepping aside. The leaves are changing, the mornings are cooler and the evenings are closing in.

Each day the nights will be a little longer and on Sunday, 25^th October British Summer Time will end at 2am and we all get an extra hour’s sleep.