You can tell it's Autumn, not only is it in the air every night, carried on the scent of wood smoke, but it is in the trees, the grasses, the sky and the ether. There are also pomegranates, which are just one of the most heavenly fruits, teamed with Egremont Russet apples, with their brown paper-like skin and scintillating aroma that makes them my favourite apple. Not to mention the leaves all over the place, and the rain that is currently pattering on the windowpane. There is not a better time in the world to be sat in my newly-created 'Creative Haven', watching the rain fall with either a sewing needle or knitting needle in my hand.


[Pomegranates]

This whole season reminds me so much of a poem by William Blake called 'The Tiger', which seems to go well with this time of year. Not for any religious reasons, but just because it is a beautiful poem.

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?