I’m fine sweetie. Life’s been hectic and busy for a long time but it’s a bit more quiet now, thank goodness. Missed your writings and photos as well ❤️❤️
We have had a lot of fog in my slice of this world, too. I went out last weekend and wandered in it for hours. So lovely! It warms me to read you each and every time you post! Thanks for sharing! XO
It’s so easy to lose track of time in the mist and fog don’t you think Danielle… it invites me to lose myself in endless imaginings, mystical and magical. Anything can happen in the mist…
Thank you so much for reading, wishing you a wild and beautiful weekend. xox
Sepia heaven!! What a delight, Susie, thank you. I seriously think I could lose a whole day watching your gorgeous, and so dear, sheep. You paint such an incredible picture of where you are that I feel a shimmer of myself is actually there. I wish it were so, and I wish all my sense of humanness were devoured, too ;)
Sweetest thanks Vanessa, that is a gift I would treasure for ever! I swear the days get shorter each year! I hope the week-end is sprinkling a little magic on you 💛xx
Once again I lost myself in your beautiful photos and words, a respite from reality. After reading it once, I delved back in, taking the time to feel and ponder your words. Gaze at the photos. Enjoying the experiences you shared.
Love the video of your sheep happily munching their food. So very sweet! Light and Love my Sweet SS. xoxo
I wish you could have been by my side sweet soul, sharing those hauntingly beautiful moments with me on my hill, Im sure we could have chatted with those phantoms for hours together, maybe even joined in with their songs!
this, so descriptive of various moments of this season. Surprisingly, even in VT, the north wind is blowing, already changing rainbow hillsides to shades of sepia. I look out over the lake today mist blankets the entire scene.Looking north,the vast expanse shows me what’s coming our way. I can just barely see shorelines and naked branches peaking out as rain sneaks in slow motion time lapse. And I think of your hill, far away. Your gorgeous descriptions , photos in sepia shadings tell so much more of their story than crisp clean lines. Warm and cold mesh together like mid Autumn sliding to Winter.
“I am a thief of nature…”
I never had the pleasure of reading this, happy to finish it later by the fire.
I love the play of words , what a perfect title of a book. If I saw it in a bookstore window with a beautiful sepia photograph, I’d quickly go in and buy one. And then, I pressed “the killing fields”. I refuse to share my thoughts in detail, you already have been through every word I have to offer . I will say, from the moment I started reading I scanned the words faster and faster as my heart raced along with yours. Up in heaven they are on their own hill, whole, and happily filling their bellies with a never ending supply of grain. My mind will drift while walking in the rain today ( pups must be walked or the furniture will pay) and in the blur of my surrounding hills, I will see the sepia silhouettes of you and your husband
coaxing and grasping pears from reluctant branches. And ,Thoreau defining our needs in detail 😊.However did he know?
I am imaging your lake Lor, shimmering under a layer of mist as winter is blown in on gentle white horses from the north, enticing the imagination and the leaves from their trees. Soon you will leave, before the real cold of long dark winter days arrive, leave your lake to its frozen depths until spring arrives smiling her warm smile again.
My hours in nature today have been rather hijacked (and they started with such magic) by young bucks with guns, they swarm the hill at this time of year, their noisy hounds ahead or behind them (often lost completely). These boys don’t realise their trendy perfume is carried miles ahead of them, that a wild boar can smell them coming from 2 km away! And I thank the gods for that!
The last of pears are all gathered and stored, walnuts are still falling but slower than last weekend, those that fall now we will leave for the wildlife, a little treat to add to their winter stores. We have plenty!
As I left the field this afternoon, my sheep were frolicking, as is their way, curious as to what my buckets are filled with… but they are not partial to walnuts so I cut up fallen apples and treat them to some kale from my garden. They are content…
Thank you for your beautiful thoughts my lovely friend from afar…
I hope the rain is kind rain. 💦
I’m not sure how Thoreau knew Lor, he was right though…
Enchanting! I am dissolving back into my concrete world from your sepia one, and I’m sorry to go. Your photos. Your mist-blanket. Your sheep-noses. Your words. I could tarry longer.
I do hope you get to escape into somewhere softer, maybe with a little more gold and crimson splashed here and there for the weekend Tara, Warm thanks for taking time to wander a while on my misty hill.
I read Kimberly‘s piece earlier. It seems you’re both lost in the fog this week. Great minds. I’ve been lost in my own fog of work, which is sadly far removed from a field shrouded in mist. I would much rather be gathering, walnuts and catching pears, reading your work and the work of my friends here is something I look forward to now more than ever.
I very nearly didn't post this after reading Kimberly's masterful essay Ben, one great mind at least! Thank you for reading my humble offerings, I can only imagine how your leisure time has diminished since beginning full time work again which makes my appreciation huge.
The upside to working is there is always a weekend to look forward to! Enjoy...🙏🏼
Consider me complimented Jo, thank you for your immensly kind and encouraging words, they've reached me on a slump day - make that few days - so are most welcome, both my woolly friends and I send you hugs and wishes for a beautiful spring weekend! xx🤗
Utterly beautiful as always dear Susie. “speaking of love can never be over done, certainly not to those we love.” How delightful to see your tiny flock enjoying their morning grain. I will not easily forget the raw horror and sorrow of that day, and reading of your loss and heartbreak, but each time I read now of your survivor and his new friends, my heart is lifted again. And the sheep house is looking beautifully picturesque in the sepia delirium 🤎🍂🍁
Bless you Emily, I still have nightmares about that day. It will pass, as the others from my younger years did but it is still very vivid and I worry about them daily when Im not here. Did I tell you that sheep house was originally an above ground pool? Hubby decided to put a roof on it and then took days and days to hand craft the chestnut shingles to cover it... it was never really meant to be for the sheep - I had secret dreams of a studio for my seed boxes and writing, one with a little wood stove to keep me warm in winter, a desk and a comfortable chair and herbs hanging from the rafters... sounds lovely doesn't it!
Sadly the sheep beat me too it... but they're worth it!
I hope the day scoots along into the weekend with ease lovely 💛🍂xx
You did tell me of the sheep house's alternative destiny, and I love the sound of that so much. I can imagine you there, as you write, the air smelling of wood smoke and herbs, an old comfy chair, beautifully lived in, a home for your wonderful writing and seed boxes. If there's room for a second comfy chair, we can sit in the warm together, and play a game of scrabble perhaps, in our imaginations ✨💛
Oh Thoreau! Leaving the world behind is such sanity. And though your days are filled with bouncing sheep (I think I need to see that once a day), endless harvests, tending tending always tending, and when it’s not the land, your students, and yet you continue to pray with your feet and invite your readers to do the same, even if sometimes it’s only vicariously. But oh how alive vicariously feels when it’s lived through you dear Susie.
And thank you for the generous nod in my direction. I thought about you while writing because I know how much you cherish the sun and how little you’ve felt his warmth this year. I wondered if you might throw up your hands and exclaim, No to fog Kim! But then here you are, mesmerized by the misty landscape of your trees, puppeteering voluminous shapes and offering your own sacred yes to it all.
As was yours Kimberely - 'In defence of Fog' (never would I say no to fog, even after the non-summer as we've had) was such an extraordinary maze of wisdom and beauty I almost didn't post my own humble and somewhat whimsical offerings; a mere sepia stroll compared to your colourful palette of greys jauntily inviting itself through a whole fabulous life.
I am so rushed at times, it feels often that I too am only visiting these phantoms of the forests vicariously, stopping only long enough to snap a quick photo, or note which way the wind is blowing mushroom spores as a reminder for seasons in waiting. I would do much to slow down these days to have just a little less calling to me - except my sheep, they are exempt!
And always you lift the lows in my day with the kindest, most/too generous of words. Thank you - thank you xxx
Another dreamy post, Susie. That image ‘In the moment just before mist dissolves into morning’ … utterly gorgeous. Do you have your home bedecked in framed prints of your fine photography? They are gallery worthy.
My warmest thanks Barrie - that moment of the day (which I just caught this morning) has to be the one of my most photographed but would you believe me if I said I've never even had one printed Barrie? I won a book of prints of my choice during confinement, I think there are about thirty of my favourites at the time folded inside a beautifully bound cover with a misprint in my chosen title which was supposed to say Curious Choas but in fact says Curious Chaos - I think I've only ever flipped through it once! So off-putting!
Home this weekend after last weekend’s trip to Rochefort. I have some Field Notes to compile but we have friends from our deli days passing through so I’ll leave the writing until Sunday. Haircut day so sharpening my French and reminding myself how to ask for the appropriate length of ‘dos et côtés courts’! Happy weekend.
Wonderful .. you are amazing! ❤️
Kisses darling… I hope you’re well and smiling ♥️xxxx
I loved reading your story and looking at your beautiful dreamy sepia photos again Susie!
It seems ages since I last visited your substack… Hope to be here more often now.
I do, as much as I can 😉 and I’m really looking forward to the slower winter season! 🥰
I’m fine sweetie. Life’s been hectic and busy for a long time but it’s a bit more quiet now, thank goodness. Missed your writings and photos as well ❤️❤️
I hope you're making tile for you too lovely - winter is coming, its time for cosy evenings and calm for a few months - lots of love xx ❤️xx
Hello my lovely… how are you? Thanks so much for popping by - you are much missed ♥️xxx
We have had a lot of fog in my slice of this world, too. I went out last weekend and wandered in it for hours. So lovely! It warms me to read you each and every time you post! Thanks for sharing! XO
It’s so easy to lose track of time in the mist and fog don’t you think Danielle… it invites me to lose myself in endless imaginings, mystical and magical. Anything can happen in the mist…
Thank you so much for reading, wishing you a wild and beautiful weekend. xox
Sepia heaven!! What a delight, Susie, thank you. I seriously think I could lose a whole day watching your gorgeous, and so dear, sheep. You paint such an incredible picture of where you are that I feel a shimmer of myself is actually there. I wish it were so, and I wish all my sense of humanness were devoured, too ;)
Sweetest thanks Chloe, I think a little shimmer of you arrived in the trees today… I saw a flitter of light with soft wings…
My little flock are adorable woolly darlings that bring a smile to my every day and a few less fruit in the orchard… you’d love them! X
Oh I already do! X
Ah Susie, if I could only gift you time I would gladly do so…. gently packaged and sent with love for you to spend as you choose. Xx
Sweetest thanks Vanessa, that is a gift I would treasure for ever! I swear the days get shorter each year! I hope the week-end is sprinkling a little magic on you 💛xx
Sometimes it feels lonely in town too. Sometimes, I think, we are just lonely. Even in good company.
I have a feeling it’s a 21st century disease Natalie… incurable because everyone is too busy just surviving !
Once again I lost myself in your beautiful photos and words, a respite from reality. After reading it once, I delved back in, taking the time to feel and ponder your words. Gaze at the photos. Enjoying the experiences you shared.
Love the video of your sheep happily munching their food. So very sweet! Light and Love my Sweet SS. xoxo
I wish you could have been by my side sweet soul, sharing those hauntingly beautiful moments with me on my hill, Im sure we could have chatted with those phantoms for hours together, maybe even joined in with their songs!
sending love and light right back to you xxx
"...is there any other time to walk, to feel unquestionably devoured by a moment, than in the silence of a Sunday morning".
This. 100% this.
I hope that fruitfulness is linked to your wonderful mémoire Lisha..!!
It seems I have found the missing puzzle to which I needed it to be complete, Susie. I am excited for the rewrite.
That is fantastic news! I’m going to DM you Lisha x
So many thanks, I hope the week is being kind to you dear Lisha! x
It is redeeming itself to be quite fruitful so far, Susie.
“In delirious middles of — sepia …”
I agree with Nathan, love
this, so descriptive of various moments of this season. Surprisingly, even in VT, the north wind is blowing, already changing rainbow hillsides to shades of sepia. I look out over the lake today mist blankets the entire scene.Looking north,the vast expanse shows me what’s coming our way. I can just barely see shorelines and naked branches peaking out as rain sneaks in slow motion time lapse. And I think of your hill, far away. Your gorgeous descriptions , photos in sepia shadings tell so much more of their story than crisp clean lines. Warm and cold mesh together like mid Autumn sliding to Winter.
“I am a thief of nature…”
I never had the pleasure of reading this, happy to finish it later by the fire.
I love the play of words , what a perfect title of a book. If I saw it in a bookstore window with a beautiful sepia photograph, I’d quickly go in and buy one. And then, I pressed “the killing fields”. I refuse to share my thoughts in detail, you already have been through every word I have to offer . I will say, from the moment I started reading I scanned the words faster and faster as my heart raced along with yours. Up in heaven they are on their own hill, whole, and happily filling their bellies with a never ending supply of grain. My mind will drift while walking in the rain today ( pups must be walked or the furniture will pay) and in the blur of my surrounding hills, I will see the sepia silhouettes of you and your husband
coaxing and grasping pears from reluctant branches. And ,Thoreau defining our needs in detail 😊.However did he know?
(I am glad you found your words, beautiful ).
I am imaging your lake Lor, shimmering under a layer of mist as winter is blown in on gentle white horses from the north, enticing the imagination and the leaves from their trees. Soon you will leave, before the real cold of long dark winter days arrive, leave your lake to its frozen depths until spring arrives smiling her warm smile again.
My hours in nature today have been rather hijacked (and they started with such magic) by young bucks with guns, they swarm the hill at this time of year, their noisy hounds ahead or behind them (often lost completely). These boys don’t realise their trendy perfume is carried miles ahead of them, that a wild boar can smell them coming from 2 km away! And I thank the gods for that!
The last of pears are all gathered and stored, walnuts are still falling but slower than last weekend, those that fall now we will leave for the wildlife, a little treat to add to their winter stores. We have plenty!
As I left the field this afternoon, my sheep were frolicking, as is their way, curious as to what my buckets are filled with… but they are not partial to walnuts so I cut up fallen apples and treat them to some kale from my garden. They are content…
Thank you for your beautiful thoughts my lovely friend from afar…
I hope the rain is kind rain. 💦
I’m not sure how Thoreau knew Lor, he was right though…
Enchanting! I am dissolving back into my concrete world from your sepia one, and I’m sorry to go. Your photos. Your mist-blanket. Your sheep-noses. Your words. I could tarry longer.
I do hope you get to escape into somewhere softer, maybe with a little more gold and crimson splashed here and there for the weekend Tara, Warm thanks for taking time to wander a while on my misty hill.
I read Kimberly‘s piece earlier. It seems you’re both lost in the fog this week. Great minds. I’ve been lost in my own fog of work, which is sadly far removed from a field shrouded in mist. I would much rather be gathering, walnuts and catching pears, reading your work and the work of my friends here is something I look forward to now more than ever.
I very nearly didn't post this after reading Kimberly's masterful essay Ben, one great mind at least! Thank you for reading my humble offerings, I can only imagine how your leisure time has diminished since beginning full time work again which makes my appreciation huge.
The upside to working is there is always a weekend to look forward to! Enjoy...🙏🏼
Oh such gorgeousness: plums and walnuts, giant pears and wooly sheep. What abundance Susie.
There aren't many who can write about nature without sounding trite. But you can.
Oh how you fill me up. Thank you. Jo xx🙏❤️
Consider me complimented Jo, thank you for your immensly kind and encouraging words, they've reached me on a slump day - make that few days - so are most welcome, both my woolly friends and I send you hugs and wishes for a beautiful spring weekend! xx🤗
Utterly beautiful as always dear Susie. “speaking of love can never be over done, certainly not to those we love.” How delightful to see your tiny flock enjoying their morning grain. I will not easily forget the raw horror and sorrow of that day, and reading of your loss and heartbreak, but each time I read now of your survivor and his new friends, my heart is lifted again. And the sheep house is looking beautifully picturesque in the sepia delirium 🤎🍂🍁
Bless you Emily, I still have nightmares about that day. It will pass, as the others from my younger years did but it is still very vivid and I worry about them daily when Im not here. Did I tell you that sheep house was originally an above ground pool? Hubby decided to put a roof on it and then took days and days to hand craft the chestnut shingles to cover it... it was never really meant to be for the sheep - I had secret dreams of a studio for my seed boxes and writing, one with a little wood stove to keep me warm in winter, a desk and a comfortable chair and herbs hanging from the rafters... sounds lovely doesn't it!
Sadly the sheep beat me too it... but they're worth it!
I hope the day scoots along into the weekend with ease lovely 💛🍂xx
You did tell me of the sheep house's alternative destiny, and I love the sound of that so much. I can imagine you there, as you write, the air smelling of wood smoke and herbs, an old comfy chair, beautifully lived in, a home for your wonderful writing and seed boxes. If there's room for a second comfy chair, we can sit in the warm together, and play a game of scrabble perhaps, in our imaginations ✨💛
Oh Emily, I never thought of a game of Scrabble too… I have to make that happen! I hope your weekend is a sunny one lovely…💛xx
Oh Thoreau! Leaving the world behind is such sanity. And though your days are filled with bouncing sheep (I think I need to see that once a day), endless harvests, tending tending always tending, and when it’s not the land, your students, and yet you continue to pray with your feet and invite your readers to do the same, even if sometimes it’s only vicariously. But oh how alive vicariously feels when it’s lived through you dear Susie.
And thank you for the generous nod in my direction. I thought about you while writing because I know how much you cherish the sun and how little you’ve felt his warmth this year. I wondered if you might throw up your hands and exclaim, No to fog Kim! But then here you are, mesmerized by the misty landscape of your trees, puppeteering voluminous shapes and offering your own sacred yes to it all.
What a joy you are to read.
As was yours Kimberely - 'In defence of Fog' (never would I say no to fog, even after the non-summer as we've had) was such an extraordinary maze of wisdom and beauty I almost didn't post my own humble and somewhat whimsical offerings; a mere sepia stroll compared to your colourful palette of greys jauntily inviting itself through a whole fabulous life.
I am so rushed at times, it feels often that I too am only visiting these phantoms of the forests vicariously, stopping only long enough to snap a quick photo, or note which way the wind is blowing mushroom spores as a reminder for seasons in waiting. I would do much to slow down these days to have just a little less calling to me - except my sheep, they are exempt!
And always you lift the lows in my day with the kindest, most/too generous of words. Thank you - thank you xxx
What a gorgeous language to be lost in.
Susie, these photos. And your sweet flock. I love the notion of mist as light matter.
A beautiful post.
Thank you Holly, my little flock send a bleed of appreciation too!
Yes, mist as light matter, an intriguing notion, likely utter twaddle but I am holding on to it!
May your day be filled with gorgeousness of all colours!
Another dreamy post, Susie. That image ‘In the moment just before mist dissolves into morning’ … utterly gorgeous. Do you have your home bedecked in framed prints of your fine photography? They are gallery worthy.
My warmest thanks Barrie - that moment of the day (which I just caught this morning) has to be the one of my most photographed but would you believe me if I said I've never even had one printed Barrie? I won a book of prints of my choice during confinement, I think there are about thirty of my favourites at the time folded inside a beautifully bound cover with a misprint in my chosen title which was supposed to say Curious Choas but in fact says Curious Chaos - I think I've only ever flipped through it once! So off-putting!
Ooh, I’d be tempted to get a new cover made!! Maybe put it on a birthday list to get a print made. Even a gorgeous photo book …
Anyhoo, even without that, your work is bringing so much pleasure to those of us peeking in. That’s art!!
And really, that's all I ever wished for Barrie!
Wishes DO come true! Happy Friday, Susie.
Right back at you Barrie, are you en route to weekend writing?
Home this weekend after last weekend’s trip to Rochefort. I have some Field Notes to compile but we have friends from our deli days passing through so I’ll leave the writing until Sunday. Haircut day so sharpening my French and reminding myself how to ask for the appropriate length of ‘dos et côtés courts’! Happy weekend.