I should be mourning the departure of summer, flip flops & freckles, high days & holidays. However, I know as sure as Morecombe & Wise will be on the telly at Christmas, that those days will come around again, so I’m happy to stop clinging & let them go. Currently, I am revelling in days where morning dew makes cobwebs sparkle, our breath is as visible as if we were smoking fat cigars, the sky is a brilliant blue interrupted only by occasional puffs of cloud, there’s a lone rose in the garden on a skeletal briar & when the sun is at it’s highest we bathe in cockle warming amber & gold.
We’re pulling on tights & remembering when our mums pulled our wooly versions up so high when we were little we were left dangling. Checking that something furry hasn’t made a nest in our wellies, digging out our ratty mismatched assortment of scarves & gloves, yelling at our loved ones to “take a layer” putting the whole lot in place for a trip outside, only to find it’s actually 18 degrees, we’ve been a bit previous, we have too many knitted items about our persons, our heads itch, our scarves become damp from our hot breath and the whole lot gets peeled off. Better to be prepared though.
The day finishes abruptly. In mid afternoon, it’s gloomy, there’s a lull, tea is needed. The kitchen starts to fill with delicious steam. Roasted roots, fruit slumps, nutmeg laced rice puddings are back on the menu. A sneaky bottle of something raisiny & viscous will be warming the pipes of and of course warding off any seasonal lurgies that the chef may be incubating.
Should I go on about, wood smoke, collecting the last windfalls, carpets of jewel coloured leaves the returning of the Robin & the little family of Blue tits to the garden? All highlights, but without wanting to saturate with Maple syrup sweetness, it seems a shame, but you get the picture and so I'll desist.
Not everyday feels like a scene from a John Irving, New England, placed novel, Autumn days are unpredictable, it’s just as likely to be pelting down, damp, grey, uninspiring. A bit like any given day in July or August in the UK as it turns out, when we’ve pinned our hopes on a picnic & a paddle. But the days when we can be out & about soaking up the last rays, these feel like a bonus and ever so grateful we are for a last unmuddied outside hurrah.
Looking at it from a work perspective and I have been - see pics - the Autumn throws up all sorts of creative opportunities. Textures become even more textural, layers more layered, colours so unbelievable glorious that personally I think that more folk should carry out their nuptials at this time and embrace the season & all that it brings. Plus, I am desperate to have an excuse, other than that that Halloween brings, to hollow out some squash & fill them with blooms!