Autumn

Once I've got over the initial hump at the end of Summer (and my near inevitable disappointment in August, which always ends up damp, despite the promise of sun) I realise how much I love the Autumn. Because its the start of the school year, I think I'll forever associate it with the advent of personal reinvention, new clothes and exciting stationery options.

At home I've been fortunate enough to have a garden where previous owners planted productive trees, now mature and gracious. We have hazel, walnut, apples of all kinds and an especially wizened and weary looking pear tree. They often fill me with guilt, when I'm too busy to make the most of their bounty, but also a great deal of pleasure when I get my arse into gear and harvest. There's also so much joy (and preserving) to be had in foraging for fruits from the hedgerows nearby; everything from blackberries to sloes and rose hips. 

While waiting for Halloween and Bonfire Night (which are both so brilliant that they ought, by rights, to be spread further apart) there's much joy to be gained from the changing colours and a return to forgiving woolly tights and red wine. I'm raising a glass to mists and mellow fruitfulness.