72 micro-seasons 46

Janey...

A cold wind blows in from the sea, and leaves autumn in its wake

Jane...

The drizzle is so fine, I don't feel it on my face. Afterwards my clothes are damp.

Helen...

I pick the last blackberries as a thousand geese honk and settle at the water’s edge like holidaymakers.

Kit...

Down on the Solway the sand martins have left, a salty breeze blows through their empty riverbank residencies

Beverley...

A flush of wild chamomile and groundsel has greened up the tracks between the short, shorn stalks of wheat.

72 micro-seasons 45

Janey...

After the harvest moon, a cool breeze gentles the cheek. The drift of feathers...

Helen....

Swallows have packed up and gone but a creaking in the hot blue sky signals the return of the geese.

Jane...

Long shadows cast in the sharp amber light of early morning.

Beverley...

Morning meditation is edging into the pre-dawn now. A full moon is reluctant to set.

Kit...In the cool light of a super moon a barn owl quarters the fields on milk-white wings

72 micro-seasons 44...

Janey...

Feeding among the barley stubble, startled pigeons scatter across the mackerel-sky

Jane...

Sunlight twinkles silver on a haze of grass.

Helen...

Trees and hedgerows darker green now and ragged at the edges. Sharp air.

Beverley...

The rusting creep of autumn in the chestnut trees.

Kit...

In first-frost folds of fell, foxglove leaves are veined with threads of lace

72 micro-seasons 43

Janey...

Blackberries diamond-hung in the silent morning rain

Jane...

A haze of watery golden mist hangs over the river.

Helen...

Pale pink splashes spilling all over the place - ah those Japanese anemones again!

Kit...

Hedgerow thistles gone to seed - Miss Havishams in ruinous ivory raiment

Beverley...

The absence that follows the harvests allows the fen fields to fill with wide open space again.

72 micro-seasons 42

Janey...

Adventuring in the interior...

Ruby-jewelled rowan bushes bedeck the hedgerows

Helen...

I pull onions from their beds - brown papery skins dry in the evening sun.

Beverley...

After the rain the air is steeped in a soft tangy scent: early leaf fall, forgotten apples, wet and shabby roses.

Jane...

Cool clear sun lights clusters of berries on burnished hawthorn.

Kit...

A shaft of solway evening sun falls on withered stems of giant hogweed - turns them into golden statues.

72 micro-seasons 41

Janey...

Tendrils of mist finger their way stealthily over the cliffs

Beverley ...

A bank of vermillion rose hips, scarlet berries on hawthorn, and a profusion of purple sloes.

Helen...

Swallows skittering,

A chill in the morning air,

Fat plums ripening.

Jane...

Early nightfall on a grey day calls to the coming Equinox.

Kit...

Early morning, Coombes Wood, a ghost basket of gossamer thread stretches on pins of gorse