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The place names are familiar Halifax, Loch Lomond, Chelsea, Cornwall intermingled with the exotic sounding Martinique Beach and Musquodoboit harbour. A couple of hours down the road is Oak Island where a real life treasure hunt is televised in the belief of Templar treasure, maybe even the grail, being buried there.  Almost like Blighty but not quite. The Union Jack flows freely with the Canadian Maple and Nova Scotia flags in this warm summer ending and beginning of Autumn.

We have been travelling over the past weeks and find ourselves in Nova Scotia, ‘New Scotland’ so named by Sir William Alexander having been given the land by King James VI of Scotland in 1621. Originally this was the land of the Mi’ kmaq people and first colonised by the French who created the capital Arcadia. Needless to say the history of this area is fraught with land grabs and fighting which to an outsider visitor is invisible on the surface of a beautiful, peaceful area with a chilled out vibe.

And so we are celebrating the Autumn Equinox here, a moment in time when there is balance, a halfway point between the longest and shortest days before we move towards change -less daylight and the beginnings of winter. It’s the official date of the start of Autumn but it has felt like there is change for some weeks now.

I decide to record the days leading up to the equinox with snaps of my surroundings as I would do in Britain and to take note of the changes with an interest of what will Autumn be like here.

I’m surprised to find so much of what I know,  well what I almost know - there is familiarity in colour, light, flora and fauna but it’s not quite the same.

The Atlantic roughs up the golden beach most days here making a surf worthy of being ridden by the most experienced to beginners , but at sunrise and sunset it seems to settle, to quieten and take on Turneresque colours that are so hard to find on a paint palette. Stunted, almost Scott’s pine trees silhouette making ‘fake’ looking views of cheap art. But it’s real as are the deer on the lawn, the Snowshoe Hares who are getting a first dot of winter white on their foreheads.

Plovers and Sanderlings - not quite our type- busy up and down the sand like mice. Amongst them are locusts,  just landed, and bright yellow butterflies.

The sand dunes have clover, solidago and  Michaelmas Daisies - all out at the ‘right’ time but not quite the ‘right’ place.

It makes me consider how do things become familiar, how long does it take know these plants and animals, to know the approach of Autumn, its smell, its light, its feel before announced and how I somehow know all the indicators that align to make me feel and live the British Autumn. So now I find myself feeling slightly discombobulated in this different place - the Atlantic separating me from my British Autumn but I’m comforted too - we are not so different and people here are anticipating the Autumn and enjoying the late harvest just as we do in Blighty.

The Autumnal Equinox has been and is still known by other names, some call it Second Harvest, some call it Mabon, Alban Elfed. Autumn is known simply and beautifully as Fall in Canada and the States. The word transition is used by many people here to describe this time, it feels gentler than the word change.  Gratefulness for the harvest is percieved as corncobs, brassica and fruits are bought from roadside stalls - made all the better by the chat with the stall holder who cares about the food they are selling and an air of contemplation about winter ahead. I’m told that this time of the year can bring Hurricanes to Nova Scotia and I think of the fresh Autumn winds we get back home that whilst problematic not wreckers at the scale experienced here many years.

Perhaps this unfamiliarity is making me more receptive and considerate of a need to be open to what comes our way. I’m feeling such joy seeing the familiar, not only reminding me of home but also that it lives here too just slightly differently. And after all isn’t this time of the year just about things being slightly different, transitioning until we reach the next marker in our annual celebrations. It makes me feel a sense of peace at a time when this is such a rare and needed thing. I can only hope that if enough of us can find a sense of calm and peace that others may follow.

So let us delight in our surroundings, no matter where we call home, and marvel at what we see and experience, give a moment for thanks and a moment for witnessing Autumn coming into our lives once more.

We were lucky enough to see a spectacular  Full Super Moon a couple of days ago here, a local called it Grandmother Moon. The

Mi’ kmaq believe that each thing in nature has a spirit and that we are connected through our daily life with the natural world and Mother Earth. This brings respect to all things from sea to sand to rocks to flora, to fauna to celestial plains. The year is split into 12, by the moons (occasionally13) and each sector is representative of a natural event such as The Running of Maple Syrup (Si’Ko’Ku’s), The Croaking of Frogs. We will be working more with this beautiful way to mark the year and hope to share it with you next year.

At heart we are still British Island Folklorists but seeing how ‘our’ folklore has travelled to this land and the folklore of other countries and has been of such interest to see how it has changed to suit the people, the land, the climate. Together with our gaining an appreciation of the indigenous First Nation people’s folklore and knowledge has inspired and opened our eyes as we see and hear a familiar unfamiliar. That is our transition and our gentle harvest this year.

Hoping your harvest and transition into Autumn is gentle too and that we all continue to find wonderment by small things such as a leaf turning red no matter where we are on our beautiful earth.

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Lammas (England) Lughnasadh (Ireland,Scotland & Isle of Man) and Gŵyl Awst (Wales) are the names associated with this time of the year throughout the British Isles. Marking and celebrating the first of the harvests bread was made from the first grains gathered, in Ireland Bilberries were ripe for the picking and ‘first-harvest’ dances, sports, feasts took place.

Hill climbing, well dressing and straw crafts were popular as ways to mark this turning point of the year.

For us at Talking Trees it marks the launch of the 2025 Country Wisdom & Folklore Diary and is truly the point of harvesting all our efforts and endeavours to keep alive the old ways and celebrate the year. We love that it’s the time we can share our snippets that we have collected whilst travelling around the British Isles. In this our 15th year we are truly grateful that people are still as interested, as we are, in these old ways & wisdoms, fairs & festivals, curiosities and eccentricities of our isles. Combine this with a love and respect for Mother Nature and an interest in observing astronomical occurrences and we have all the ingredients that make up our diary.

This year we are delighted to tell you about the diary’s stitched binding, a greener and more functional binding and its gatefold cover that gives flaps to keep your place as you travel through the pages of the year. We have continued to use an accessible font on coloured paper to enable easier reading for as many people as possible together with sustainable printing production methods. Every year we try to take another step to making our environmental footprint as gentle as possible.

The front cover of the diary celebrates ancient trees, and is inspired by the Major Oak of Sherwood Forest. Throughout the diary we have a few other references and stories relating to our trees. We see this years diary as coming from the woodland to the clearings where wildflowers grow and hares leap.

The last of the pyramid orchids are flowering & replacing their injection of vibrant pink is Rosebay Willow Herb. This prolific large wild flower is seen on grass verges and wastelands and is often considered an invasive weed, however this gloriously coloured plant offers a burst of flaming pink in swathes throughout our Isles and beyond. It is known as fireweed in North America with a saying ‘When fireweed flowers turn to cotton summer is forgotten’.

This plant is also incredibly useful , you can weave baskets from its stem, and use its seed ‘fluff’as tinder, make a sweet jelly, a healing tea and some even use it to add to ice cream ingredients.

Harvest suggests an ending to a cycle and also allows us to begin the next. It is not an end but it is a time to reap what has been sown. Hopefully our efforts throughout the year lead us all to a good personal harvest that we can celebrate but if things haven’t gone quite as hoped we know we can begin again and sow new seeds that still have time for fruition before year’s end.

Traditionally a libation is offered to the earth to show the respect it deserves for allowing our crops to grow. Some communities buried a bit of the harvest loaf and poured a little drop of ale, others buried last year’s corn dolly(this happens at many different times according to local tradition). The idea of giving thanks is one that we should carry with us and not taking what we have for granted. If you can maybe offer a libation to the earth or you could say thank you to someone in your community for their efforts in sustaining us. From bakers to brewers we all live better lives for their efforts.

And so we give thanks to you for your support and kindness, we never take you for granted and always have you in mind as we create the diary. We hope you will enjoy this year’s offering.

From August 2nd the Wall Calendar will also be available on our website and a little later the new Yuletide countdown ‘advent’ calendar and fingers crossed The Little Book of Samhain/All Hallow’s Eve - so please do keep a look out on our website or Etsy shop for new bits and bobs.

Wishing you a bountiful harvest and joy as you ponder on the next seeds to sow xx


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There are many symbols and representations of our sun that have been made by us throughout time, the most basic being a circle with a dot in it. The variations of imagery and the fact we want to depict it shows we have a long held reverence and interest in our life-giver. with the way the weather has been lately you may indeed feel the need to draw the sun to remind you what it looks like as its appearances have been scant this spring and summer.

But regardless of the sun’s shyness this year we are indeed at the solstice, where we have the most daylight hours before we begin to journey towards the shorter days of winter. However the inclement and cold weather we have been experiencing over the British Isles, that has made us all turn to heating being on and blankets, would be for some countries a dream as they battle with the sun at its full strength and the realisation that time out in it must be limited and protected for fear of life loss. It is easy to forget in our mainly temperate isles the power it has. Although our ancestors certainly show us the reverence they had to it through our amazing ancient monuments aligned to its rising and setting.

Without our sun we would not have the amazing Northern Lights/Aurora/Mirrie Dancers that we witnessed in May here in many places in the UK. This level of activity that we can see in our night skies is an indicator of increased activity in our sun as we enter a particularly active period of time in its life-cycle. We were absolutely amazed by the showing of the Aurora and felt we were having a wonderful shared experience with others in that moment and over time where our ancestors and future people will too be in awe.

And too the amazing full solar eclipse we were lucky enough to see in Canada earlier this year. A beautiful collaboration of sun and moon.

Folklore tends to concentrate on Midsummer in a few days time on the 22nd June this year, rather than the Solstice. We are told that it is unlucky to hear the cuckoo on or after midsummer’s day. Also that fern seeds picked on this day had the power to make the carrier invisible. Rolling burning cartwheels down hills was one tradition for Midsummer, symbolising the declining sun from this point until we come to the Winter Solstice. Bonfires were and are, in some areas, still lit to mark Midsummer.

So today or over the next few days celebrate our sun, be in awe of its power and give thanks for its life giving energy. If we don’t see too much of it this year perhaps be thankful of that too but also hope the rain stays away for just a time so we can dry out a little ! St John’s wort is the plant of the moment and together with summer roses and birch twigs make a lovely swag to decorate your threshold in a tradition once followed by many.

Have a beautiful summer, whatever it turns out to be.

This photo was taken by my daughter in London - dramatic sunset sky - a perfect reminder of the beauty and power of Nature.


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