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Satin & Sand

~ Reflections on Beauty

Satin & Sand

Category Archives: Autumn

Beautiful Smashing Chestnuts…

04 Friday Sep 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Poetry, Father, watercolor, Autumn

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Chestnuts, Conkers, Fall, Poetry, watercolor

© Joan Currie – My watercolor of my chestnuts.


Smashing Chestnuts by Joan Currie

My father loved teaching
us children tricks—
how to

walk the dog with a yo-yo,
split an apple in half
with our bare hands,
carve an Ivory soap bar
into a fish for the bath.

Best of all,
how to make
horse chestnut conkers
ready for battle.

In the fall,
we walked through the park
to a grove of chestnut trees

and gathered up their mast–
shiny burnt-sienna nuggets
spilled from
green, spiked husks.

We filled our pockets
with the biggest ones.

At his workbench,
Father drilled a hole in each.
We scouted around for
old shoelaces
and threaded them through.

Our driveway was our playing field.
Father taught us
the art of flicking the wrist,
the arc of attack.

We took turns
trying to smash
each other’s conkers
with strategic blows.

Yesterday, I came across
horse chestnuts in my park.

I think I’ll make
some conkers again.

Father would get
a kick out of that.

Beautiful Summer’s Over…

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Autumn, Poetry, Reflections

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Tags

Autumn, Fall, Poetry, Reflections, Signs of Fall, Summer's Over

© Joan Currie – White linen drying on the line.


Summer’s Over by Joan Currie

I knew summer was over
well before the usual
signs appeared:

maple keys settling
on my patio stones,
squirrels digging holes
for forthcoming acorns,
school supplies
flooding box stores.

The sheets on the line—
still damp by mid-afternoon,
not the iron-pressed heat
I’d held against my face
only a day before.

Many of the things
I had hoped would happen, did,
but not in the way
I had planned.

Still, I want

more!

So much more!

I heave a little
self-indulgent sigh,
and look forward to
what the fall
has to offer
.

Beautiful 365 Day Creative Challenge Completed…

21 Thursday Mar 2024

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Autumn, beautiful, Crafts, Needlepoint, Sewing, Wool

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365-day-creative-challenge, Art, Atomic Habits, elizabeth-bradley-designs, James Clear, Needlepoint, tapestry, textiles

© Joan Currie – My last 16″ x 16″ needlepoint canvas finally made into a pillow.

All big things come from small beginnings. The seed of every habit is a single, tiny decision. But as that decision is repeated, a habit sprouts and grows stronger. Roots entrench themselves and branches grow. The task of breaking a bad habit is like uprooting a powerful oak within us. And the task of building a good habit is like cultivating a delicate flower one day at a time.
by James Clear, Atomic Habits

I am happy to report that I have finally finished my last needlepoint project. It took me an entire year to stitch twelve canvases (and that included sewing them into pillows). I had intended to try another self-imposed creative challenge in another medium such as painting versus textiles, but the habit of picking up a needlepoint canvas is so ingrained in me, that I cannot and now do not want to give it up! Thank you, James Clear, for starting me on this creative challenge journey.

Beautiful Walk in the Woods…

19 Sunday Nov 2023

Posted by Satin & Sand in Acrylics, Art, Autumn, Nature, Poetry, Reflections, Trees, Winter

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acrylic painting, Autumn, beautiful, Emily Bronte, Painting, Poetry, Trees

© Joan Currie – My en plein air (fluid acrylic) painting of falling leaves around a tree trunk in the rain.

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

From Fall, Leaves, Fall by Emily Brontë

I reveled in the beauty of fall on my walk – but, there was a bittersweet undertone to the experience. The leaves that carpeted my path were a sign that the world around me was preparing for a long slumber. The once-bustling woods would soon be hushed by the frigid grip of winter. The trees, now so alive with color, will soon stand bare and vulnerable.

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