Shaggy inkcaps

They look rather like a judges wig

Curls twisting.

Best found early morning

When sun has only just made its presence felt

And before the bread has been taken out of the oven.

BUT Pick these glorious little fellows when blue blood weaps

from the curls and you will regret it.

They need to be plucked from the soil as the baker removes the

bread from his oven - then joy is yours.

Particularly if you cook them immediately in lashings of butter, several twists of pepper

Then spread them on freshly buttered toast

This is a taste experience you will remember always.

Sharing the harvest

Now that the blackberries are ripening we can walk the fields, basket in hand to collect them.

It is our right - they are there for the taking.

Or are they?

Maybe they belong to the butterflies, the birds and the creatures of the night and we the thieves are stealing their bounty?

Autumn is on its way

I am still not quite sure why I was mesmerised by the stacks of hay that we passed on our way to Stow.

Perhaps it was the tidy way these incredible sculptures were arranged around the field?
Perhaps it was the backdrop of undulating fields moving towards a horizon of hills in the far distance?

Perhaps it was just the tidy way they were stacked, not a straw out of place.

Or could it have been the feeling that they significed the papable fact summer was making way for autumn and all was safely gathered in?