The seasons, they are a changin’…
Sometimes, after another miserable grey English day, I think about sacking it all in and moving somewhere permanently sunshiney. California. Provence. Bali. Who cares?
And then, the seasons change, and I remember why I love living England so damn much.
It’s not for our winters or our summers, because, let’s be honest, those are mostly pretty awful.
No, it’s for those between-ey days and weeks – when summer turns to autumn and winter turns to spring. When the light changes, the days feel different, when you dig out jumpers you’d forgotten about or t-shirts you missed. When you light the fire for the first time, or get out your garden furniture.
The last few weeks autumn has really started to show itself here, and – as always – it’s so, so beautiful. We’ve had gloriously sunshiney days, with the late summer light filtering through tall trees. The leaves are starting to turn yellow, and some are falling. The ground is scrunchy underneath. We need coats now, and big scarves, the occasional woolly hat.
Autumn, we bloody love you. Welcome back…