It is the first of October and the sky is a pale grey wash. Outside, the umbrellas are up and, underneath them, eyes are cast down to avoid the spiky rain. Inside, the lights are harsh and artificial, the windows spattered with rain.
I do not like saying goodbye to summer.
In summer, the air is soft and everything glows. There is less, it feels, between you and the world. It is easier to look up, harder not to smile.
I have noticed the leaves turning on the trees around our house. The sight has made me pause –
You can appreciate Autumn but it is an other. Summer feels part of me.
It is strange that this change which is so predictable, so familiar, still makes me stop and think. As the nights start to creep in and the mornings, stretch, I am acutely aware that things are changing. Soon, the short days and layers of jumpers will feel like commonplace and, while I look forward to the crispness – and cosiness – of winter, summer is a difficult season to wish goodbye.