There is always one cup of tea each year that feels unmistakably like autumn. The light has shifted, the kitchen is cooler in the morning and the hedgerows are beginning to glow with berries. Making tea stops being something done between other things and becomes a small ritual again: warming the pot, waiting for the leaves to steep and taking ten quiet minutes while the day settles around you.
That feeling was the starting point for our Autumn blend: a smoky autumn tea inspired by rosehips, blackberry leaves, woodsmoke and the changing hedgerow.
What does an autumn hedgerow taste like?
An autumn tea needs warmth and depth, but I did not want this one to taste like a cupboard full of baking spices. September is still a month between seasons. Blackberries remain on the brambles, rosehips are only just turning red and there are warm afternoons among the colder mornings.
Lapsang Souchong gives the blend its smoky foundation, recalling wood fires, damp woodland and the first evenings when lighting a candle feels necessary rather than decorative. Rosehip brings a gently tart, fruity brightness, while blackberry leaf has a quieter green and earthy character. Together they make a tea that feels autumnal without rushing ahead into winter.
Rosehips: the red fruit of the season
Rosehips are the fruits that follow the flowers of wild roses. By September they begin to colour the hedgerows in shades of orange and scarlet, remaining long after the petals of summer have gone. They have been gathered for generations for syrups, jellies, preserves and teas, partly because their sharp flavour works so well with sweetness.
Rosehips are naturally rich in vitamin C and also contain carotenoids and polyphenols. The exact amount reaching a finished cup will vary with the fruit, drying, storage and heat, so I prefer not to treat tea as medicine or make promises about what it will do. What rosehip gives this blend most certainly is flavour, colour and a direct connection to one of autumn’s most familiar wild fruits.
If you gather your own hips, be certain of your identification, choose clean unsprayed places and remove the irritating hairs surrounding the seeds before using the fruit in food or drink.
Blackberry leaf: the overlooked part of the bramble
We tend to notice brambles only when they flower or fruit, yet their leaves are present for much of the year. Blackberry leaf contains tannins and flavonoids and has a long history in traditional herbal preparations. In a blend, those tannins bring a gentle structure and dryness that sits beautifully beneath the brighter rosehip.
It is not a showy ingredient, and that is rather why I like it. Blackberry leaf belongs to the background of the British landscape: along paths, field edges and forgotten corners, holding its ground through almost every season.
Blackberries, Michaelmas and an old warning
Brambles have gathered a thicket of folklore around them. One of the best-known stories says that blackberries should not be picked after Michaelmas because the Devil, having fallen into a bramble, cursed or spat upon the fruit. The date varies from place to place: some tell it for Michaelmas on 29 September, while others attach it to Old Michaelmas in October.
Behind the dramatic tale is a sensible seasonal observation. As autumn advances, blackberries become softer, wetter and more vulnerable to mould and insects. Folklore made the advice memorable, turning the declining fruit into a story that could be passed from one generation to the next.
There is something wonderfully characteristic about this: the bramble gives generously for weeks, then the old tale tells us when to leave the last fruits to birds and small creatures.
A tea for noticing the season
For me, seasonal living is not about creating an idealised country life or adding more things to a list. It is a way of returning attention to the real world when so much of our time is pulled towards screens. A cup of tea can be part of that return.
While it brews, look out of the window or take your cup to the doorstep. Notice the colour of the sky, the change in the air or the berries appearing along a familiar route. You might record the first fully red rosehip, the last blackberry you picked or the first evening that felt truly autumnal in a nature journal. These small observations become a personal record of the year.
The real world is still here, waiting to be noticed.
A monthly ritual to look forward to
The smoky September tea was created as part of the September Almanac Box, alongside the illustrated Almanac, a moon-phase calendar and other seasonal pieces. It is intended to be opened slowly and returned to through the month: something grounding and comforting to look forward to, especially when the wider world feels difficult.
Subscriptions for September have now closed, but a limited number of one-off boxes remain while stocks last. You can also explore the Almanac collection or discover more teas and infusions coming soon to our teas collection.
However you mark the beginning of autumn, I hope you find a little time to make a pot, sit somewhere comfortable and notice what September is bringing to your own corner of the world.
A note on traditional plant use: this article shares food history and folklore rather than medical advice. If you are pregnant, breastfeeding, taking medication or managing a health condition, seek appropriate professional advice before using unfamiliar herbal ingredients.