It’s darker (but not that cold), summer has undeniably gone but winter has yet to take hold. Autumn’s grasp sends the city golden, with grey misty mornings giving way to glorious afternoons of sun that shines through the burnished trees in the park, illuminating their branches. Stuck this morning in traffic, I watched how a gust of wind sent yellow leaves flying from a sycamore, each twisting in its descent to resemble a flock of exotic birds.
It’s a good time to get out into the natural world, although on the allotment things are quiet. I’ve been busying myself clearing the back garden of our new house – getting to know our thin soil, sifting through the broken bricks, tiles and glass left by a builder many years ago. It’s not a pretty job, but it will reap returns in the long run.
So there are few words this week…just a reminder to take a moment and absorb the gloriousness of the passing season.