It is T-minus 90 minutes till sundown. The impending dusk is creeping up the mountain like an embarrassed ghost. Strange rustles in the undergrowth could be furry creatures preparing for bed, or they could be dark ghouls with the stolen souls of dead mushrooms.

On a thickly foggy October morning, the high mountaintops beckoned me. The low autumn sun shimmered through a veiled sky, gilding the russet leaves in gold, and forming magical landscapes that emerged and evolved from the mist...

YouTube video by Glimpse ~ Moving Well

Is there anything more tranquil than the gentle plop of a duck into the still waters of a canal? Soft autumn colours, tranquil reflections and comical birds in a gentle leaf-dusted ramble...

A journey into a cloaked landscape. Skies overcast with the palest of greys have rendered a flat, still light, hiding the depth and contrast of the hills. It is like nature, in the midst of its magnificent tumble into autumn, has chosen to have a little snooze - to rest a moment from the bustle of the season - retreating under the grey anonymity of the stratus clouds.

Welcome back to White Rose of Avalon, my Darlings.    For today’s post, I will be sharing a poem about an Autumnal walk at night! A Chill in the Air by Maranda Wabik Stars shining in the …

The mountain landscape, gilded in low autumn sun, is at the very cusp of change. Verdant green oaks spill their prolific bounty to the ground below, mingling with the first russet leaf-drop. On the open hillside above, the bright green ferns, bejewelled with raindrops, sit aside their newly bronzed companions. The hazy light softens the edges of the mountain path, beckoning me into the autumn magic...