The fairies glimmer in autumn's deep woods; tucked in magical nooks of an enchanted childhood. -Angie Weiland-Crosby
Anybody who knows me knows that, ever since I was a little girl, I've been mesmerized with magic. I'm not talking about hocus pocus or pull-a-rabbit-out-of-the-hat magic. No—I'm talking real magic, the everyday magic that makes life less lousy, that makes the mundane feel marvelous. I'm talking watercolor skies and lilac lullabies; the busker outside the supermarket with a voice like hot honey; that slap happy splendor you feel in the center of your soul while spending time with old friends. And, yes, I'm talking about autumn, in all her harmonious hues, all her shades of cessation. My affinity for life's small charms and my adoration for autumn are two sides of the same coin, for this sweet little season can be described as nothing else but pure, unadulterated magic.
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Hi there, my little fall fairies! I hope you've all been well since last we spoke. I've been feeling particularly pleasant, thanks to good food and great autumnal entertainment. Last weekend, I made chocolate chip, pumpkin spice pancakes (I'd share the recipe, but it was complete improvisation), cooked a giant pot of minestrone soup (pictured in Covenstead), and watched my favorite movie of all time, Dead Poets Society. Though I'm a bonafide fool for Mr. Keating anytime of the year, his sentiments are especially soul-stirring throughout the autumn months. Not to mention, it's a back-to-school movie set at a Vermont boarding school that tackles largely the concept of death, so if you're only going to watch it once a year, you kind of have to watch it during fall. I don't make the rules.
While last weekend was spent mostly inside, all cozied up with soup and solitude, I'm spending this weekend doing the exact opposite: camping with friends in the Great Outdoors. Tomorrow, we're headed to the Buffalo, where we plan to roast marshmallows by the bonfire, drink wine with abandon, and probably partake in yet another blood sacrifice. It doesn't get much more autumnal than that. I hope that you, too, have a weekend filled with hilarity and shenanigans—all in the name of the season, of course.
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Though I just began reading it three days ago, I simply cannot stop myself from recommending my new favorite book, The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert. It's overflowing with magic and mayhem, and I just can't seem to put it down. Think Lewis Carroll meets Edgar Allan Poe. It also doesn't hurt that the narrator's name is Alice. What initially drew me in was its captivating cover (yes, I most certainly do judge books by their covers), but its contents are somehow even more beautiful. These past couple of nights, I've found myself obsessively reading it under lamplight, long after I should be asleep, like I used to do when I was a kid and the thrill of getting caught reading after bedtime was like a lit fire creeping up my throat. It's a dreamy read in its language and storybook premise, but it's also frightening and even, at times, grotesque. The characters are eccentric and raw, and I know they'll stick with me long after I bid them farewell, when I exit The Hazel Wood.
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On Monday evening, I was swept away by a gust of autumnal inspiration. First, I happened upon today's thumbnail, a hypnotizing photo of the most whimsical and enchanting fall forest I've ever seen. Second, I was sent an audio clip of my brother's band's most recent song—a haunting, spellbinding piece titled, 'Magic Marshes.' (I'll share the full version on the site when it's complete.) Third, I stumbled across today's introduction quote, which got me thinking about folklore, childhood, and the like. And finally, I began reading The Hazel Wood, which stirred inside me something that hasn't been awoken since I first read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland as a small child. All of these serendipitous happenstances combined no doubt inspired the poem below, which came to me quickly, in a spell of intense yet peaceful concentration. I don't often write rhyming poems, so I do hope you enjoy "The Wood." Happy reading!
Until next week, stay cozy.
With warmth and whimsy,
Cat
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