Tag Archives: webs

The Best Bits of Autumn

Autumn shows us the beauty of letting go and cosying up together…


Warm Blankets and Snug Sweaters…
Don’t you just love cosying up?


© Lisa Shambrook

Revitalising Hot Chocolate…
Nothing better than a delicious hot chocolate to warm up an autumn day!


© Lisa Shambrook

Back to Boots…
I love my boots, Dr Martens and anything I can kick leaves in!


© Lisa Shambrook

Pumpkins, Halloween, Fire and Fireworks…
Dressing up is definitely our thing, light up the dark nights!


© Lisa Shambrook

Homecooked Soup and Comfort Food…
Coming home on a frosty day to a beautiful hot meal!


© Lisa Shambrook

Falling Leaves…
I’m a child at heart, kicking through crunchy leaves and loving the colours!


© Lisa Shambrook

Woodland Walks and Strolls…
Early sunsets, turning leaves and that freshness keep me on my toes!


© Lisa Shambrook

Scarves, Hats and Gloves…
Stay warm, snuggle up in your favourite coat and accessories!


© Lisa Shambrook

Acorns and Conkers…
Yep, I am a squirrel… 


© Lisa Shambrook

Jack Frost’s Chill…
The thrill of the chill and the delight of breathing dragon smoke is mine! 


© Lisa Shambrook

How is your Autumn and what’s your favourite bit so far?


© Lisa Shambrook

Five Sentence Fiction: Flawed

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
We have an interesting relationship, my mum and I, it’s always been us against the world and Dad drifts by like a sailboat out there on the rough seas of the wide, wide ocean.
So it’s always been Mum and me, she so immaculately turned out and me a scruff-bag tomboy slouching at her side.
She’s perfect, my mum, in high-heeled boots as well-heeled as she, and long, flowing skirts wrapping around her bohemian ways, and long-sleeved tops that are always rustic like a warm autumn day.
She’s the best ever, the bee’s knees they say, and even though I know she cries, it’s fine because I’m there and she doesn’t need anyone else…I’ll see her through.
I watch her smile with my eyes and kiss the crooked lines beside hers; I run my hands through her silken hair and trace those thin spider’s webs decorating her arms with my fingers, we’re perfect you see, my mum and me.