Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage trees …
John Keats
Autumn mornings like this one have me up from bed and off downstairs, barefoot, to stand for a few moments on the bejewelled grass – and be thankful …
wind in my wheels 🌱 
Just yesterday evening I was thinking of Keat’s poem and reciting it to myself. It is so powerful. Thank you!
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aren’t they the best? there is something very special about them
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… very, very special, Beth x
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Your home emanates serenity, sweet friend. Thank you for sharing…xo
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Thank you, Lori! You’re such a treasure 🙂
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As are you, Simon, as are you…💕
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😘 xx
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