Awoke this morning to feel the gentle caresses of late summer as I stepped into the garden, birds feeding on the hedgerows and squirrel's filling their pantry's with whatever they can.  The garden is alive and stocking up for the winter, which indicates I should be too, jam and chutney making with the abundance of apples and tomatoes and blackberries, reminding me of Seamus Heaney's poem Blackberry Picking, sadly he passed away last week.  Here are few lines, send me a comment if you would like the full poem.

Late August, given heavy rain and sun

For a full week the blackberries would ripen

At first, just one, a glossy purple clot

Among other, red, green, hard as a knot.

You ate the first one and it's flesh was sweet,

Like thickened wine, summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
picking.  The the red ones inked up and that hunger
sent us out with milk-cans, peas-tins, jam-pots
where briar's scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.

A wonderful picture of late summer, although we haven't had much rain, and I am truly tankful for the lovely summer we have had.

Back to the quilting later today, several shirts demolished and material waiting to be cut into fat quarters, the dining room floor was covered in little threads last night making a lovely pattern on the floor, but the vacuum spoilt their fun.

Have a lovely day wherever in this world you are.  Speak to you again tomorrow.