Last week I experienced the perfect autumn morning on my way to work. The sky was a streak of bright blue without a cloud in sight, the trees near the office yellowing and orange leaves littering the cobble stones. I could see my breath in the cool, crisp air and I had a scarf tightly…
September has not paved the way into the autumn months the way I thought it would, leaves curled on the ground, trees russet and crimson and a coolness in the air. The autumn we’re sold each year, written in thick liner on a Starbucks cup and wrapped in a tartan scarf has not yet arrived….
I didn’t mean for it to snow in September. I wasn’t wishing away the last of summer, with its pink wine and ripe raspberries for picking, the grassy scent of a freshly mown park and the dull screech of bike tyres as teenagers scavenged for Pokemon. No, I wasn’t ready yet the skies were getting…
I am in utter heaven now that we are firmly in autumn, the leaves are no longer tinged with gold but crunchy underfoot, skies a wash of blue but with a chill in the air and boots a necessary footwear staple. There’s that misty rain, the kind my hair hates which makes straightening it…