Hello,

 

Now that the most recent heatwave appears to have finally receded, I feel like I can fully appreciate these last days of summer and really lean in to that feeling of relishing the season as it comes to an end. Which feels way better than cursing the sun every time I stepped out the door, sleeping in front of a fan every night until I resembled a dried out husk and showering four times a day so that the husk analogy actually feels like a lifestyle choice. And that's just the light-hearted side of this intense summer - lets not forget the devastation caused by the wildfires springing up as the drought continues. The latest of which alongside the A31 felt very close to home and seeing a huge patch of our New Forest devastated by flames was truly heartbreaking. This week, clouds have gradually begun to reappear and like the rest of the UK, I find myself hoping for some decent levels of rainfall to help the ground begin some kind of recovery process.

 

I've loved most of this summer but on the flip side, feel so ready to embrace the season of cosy that is (hopefully) on the way. As I begin to move forward with my Seasons by Amanda Start branding exercise and start to delve deeper into what it is I want to convey, I'm continually reminded how much joy I derive from the changing of the seasons every year. Even the ones that bring cold and rain. If you pay close enough attention, every season has the potential to punctuate the day with moments that require you to stop and appreciate the recurrence of a long-forgotten feeling, a remembered scent, a change in the light, a piece of nature to be marvelled over or a sound that hasn't been heard for a while. 

 

In the new blog post linked below, I allude to the return of the wild geese that appear at this time of year. Every morning they take off for the fields that surround the nearby river and as they fly overhead in near perfect V formations, honking loudly to each other to “keep up”, I find myself swamped in nostalgia memories of late summers past. Beginning when Biscuit was young and energetic and we would walk across the fields and watch their daily flight as she ran with exuberant abandon and then, to as recently as this time last year. All our walks with her by this time had long been reduced to the shortest time and distance possible to allow for whatever toilet movement was due… and of course, partake of copious amounts of sniffing along every step of the way.

 

One morning, as we slowly ambled around the village, the geese were lower than usual - so low that I could see the feathers on their underbellies and hear the heavy beat of their wings as they flew over us both. Biscuit heard it too and we both stood there agog, watching the spectacle of these creatures repeating the same thing they did every day without fail. Perhaps as a fellow creature of habit, she identified with the ritual regularity of their daily efforts - I know I certainly did. Most likely she was wondering how she might obtain one for herself - the body was not able but I'm fairly certain that the retriever spirit within was still willing!

 

But all those memories and feelings, happy and sad, came back in one giant hit when I heard the geese again for the first time this year… and nearly floored me in one intense hit of nostalgia. If one small slice of nature has the ability to produce all of that, then isn't it always worth paying attention to the markers of every turning season?

 

Wishing you a wonderful weekend,

 

Until next time…