Sunday, 7 September 2014

Bright Stars

Have you ever watched Jane Campions beautiful film Bright Star? all about the last few years of poet John Keats and named for his quietly passionate poem thought to describe his relationship with Fanny Brawne. It's no secret that Keats died of tuberculosis, in Rome, at only 25. But I was so caught up in the colours and imagery of the film that I forgot, and so wept at the ending!  What I love most about the film is the artistry of the film maker. Go watch it, if only for the colours, the interiors and the fluttering butterfly metaphors.
John Keats featured large in my school life as the one who penned the interminable poem 'To Autumn', which we had to memorise and recite. We had ancient poetry books printed with f's instead of s's, sadly this poem always began, 'feasonf of mifts and mellow fruitfulneff'... Perfect recall of the lunch hour spent writing lines as punishment for pronouncing it just as it was written. So thank you Jane Campion, for Bright Star and the prompt to go back and revisit Keats poems with an adult eye and open mind.
To celebrate the onset of this year's season of mists; and despite the loss of summer, I love autumn for the fruitfulness and the rich harvest of inspirational colours; I went to the local farmers market to stock up on provisions and found a new trader selling gorgeous bunches of flowers from her garden. I fell in love with these darkly bronzed sunflowers and she wrapped an armful up for me in brown paper tied with raffia. They glow fiery bright with the sun shining through them and sit darkly sinister in the evenings. I'm not sure of the variety name, but she told me they flower plentifully through the summer and autumn and are a good cutting garden plant to have.

I've travelled a lot this year and have more journeys scheduled for next, so my garden is best described as an overgrown wilderness.  I love gardening in the autumn, and building bonfires, so if you see woodsmoke trailing up from our valley it will be me having fun and making good a year of neglect.

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