Honestly, I go away for a week's holiday (fantastic, thanks) and when I come back summer seems to have nipped off for a holiday of its own, leaving autumn in its place to get in some practice for later - well, I'm assuming it's for later. Right now it's breezy (as the bird-planted rose bush batters itself repeatedly against the house), distinctly nippy, and I'm assuming there was abundant rain during my absence - the already flamboyantly overgrown garden looks denser, and greener, than ever. Thank goodness it's only small.
Not that I mind - autumn has always been the season I look forward to most, with its gentler light and fading colours, and a pleasantly self-indulgent melancholy as everything starts to shut up shop in readiness for winter. It rarely lives up to all those picturebook images - sunny but brisk days, the sort of weather for venturing out in chunky jerseys and cheerful scarves; trees dressed in a vast range of colours, from soft, buttery yellows to deep mahogany; rare counterpoint days of gusty winds and driving rain, with armies of ragged, bedraggled umbrellas abandoned across town centres. But although I know that what we're most likely going to get is constant, warmish drizzle, in which rainwear is ever-present and the leaves turn blackly mottled and drop off the trees with a splat, every once in a while the season does match up to its publicity images.
Whatever, another thing I like about autumn is that new term feeling of a fresh start. It's the same after a holiday - just now I have dozens of half-formed ideas jostling for position (they need some scaffolding, soon, or in a few weeks' time I'll be lamenting that I have no ideas at all). Holidays don't have to make ideas happen, but they do seem to give them space to germinate. Must firm up some projects and get to work.
Not that I mind - autumn has always been the season I look forward to most, with its gentler light and fading colours, and a pleasantly self-indulgent melancholy as everything starts to shut up shop in readiness for winter. It rarely lives up to all those picturebook images - sunny but brisk days, the sort of weather for venturing out in chunky jerseys and cheerful scarves; trees dressed in a vast range of colours, from soft, buttery yellows to deep mahogany; rare counterpoint days of gusty winds and driving rain, with armies of ragged, bedraggled umbrellas abandoned across town centres. But although I know that what we're most likely going to get is constant, warmish drizzle, in which rainwear is ever-present and the leaves turn blackly mottled and drop off the trees with a splat, every once in a while the season does match up to its publicity images.
Whatever, another thing I like about autumn is that new term feeling of a fresh start. It's the same after a holiday - just now I have dozens of half-formed ideas jostling for position (they need some scaffolding, soon, or in a few weeks' time I'll be lamenting that I have no ideas at all). Holidays don't have to make ideas happen, but they do seem to give them space to germinate. Must firm up some projects and get to work.
RSS Feed