It is definitely Autumn now. It smells like Autumn. It feels like Autumn and the garden has quickly departed from it’s hanging-onto-the-last-of-summer mode and moved swiftly to Autumn. There will soon be dead leaves everywhere too.
I used to say Autumn was my most favourite month in Shetland but I think I am changing my mind. These days I prefer Spring.
In Shetland dialect, the word Hairst is used = n – the harvest; the work associated with that season. Da hairst’ll shön be comin on, wi aa hit’s wark; autumn. Dey mairried ida hairst.

Anyway, I had finished my afternoon chores (sheep coming home, haynets out for the ponies and giving the ducks and hens their tea-time grain), when I saw someone lurking and looking hopeful – Iacs.

So I turned around and went to the kitchen for some carrots. Five, to be precise.

I mean, I couldn’t exactly walk away and give that hopeful little face nothing.

Everyone had one carrot and that was the ration.

But the little face refused to give up. Ten out of ten for perseverance. The others had looked slightly surprised but grateful.

I went back inside the house hoping Iacs won’t starve to death over night.










































