An August harvest.

reframing the month ahead as a time to slow the pace and take a precious pause.

The lavender fields where we got married in France.

“August is the border between summer and autumn;

it is the most beautiful month I know.”

— Tove Jansson.

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Hi everyone

I hope you enjoyed reading last week’s post about the rose, my flower of the season — for its beauty but also for its meanings and importantly its medicine. It’s been lovely hearing about your own rituals, your favourite varieties and what the rose means to you…its protective qualities, its provenance, symbolism and ancient knowings and of course, its all-encompassing exquisiteness from touch to scent.

A seasonal shift.

On the cusp of August, there is an unmistakable shift in the air. Aside from the rain, the sun is warm when it emerges from the heavy clouds; but it hangs a little lower in the sky and the morning air feels different on my skin. Petals that were once vibrant with newness gazing eagerly towards the sun, are fading at the edges, tinged with a rich patina like antique brass. We are approaching a threshold as we move from the burgeoning exuberance of growth, to the ripe fullness of gathering, and the first harvests of late summer.

Despite the highest point of the year taking place over six weeks ago at the summer solstice, I find it’s easy to put pressure on August to extend itself enthusiastically, especially as it is the beginning of the summer holidays for many. It is disappointing when the British weather or our own energy levels don’t live up to the anticipation we have for these weeks that break with our usual routine.

Tinged hydrangeas on a local walk.

A summer shadow.

August evokes mixed feelings for me — the memories of long school holidays and the space before a new academic year are deeply ingrained; layered with years working in London when the workload lightens as magazines and newspapers have less pages to fill; European clients leave their factories and offices behind; and the city becomes a quiet summer shadow. The emptiness has an unmistakable sweetness and a hushed sense of relief.