The smell of woodfires burning. The mist that gathers in the garden on early mornings, hanging like some half-forgotten spirit around the boughs and bushes. Digging out welly boots and taking long walks to go puddle-jumping. Looking out at a grey and rainy day and choosing to stay in instead, watching old films and reruns. Trees becoming bare and skeletal, leaves turning, then crispening, then floating down. Blackberries fresh from the bush, fingers stained with juice, tongue alive with taste. Sturdy meals- toast, soup, steaming jacket potatoes, stews, piles of root vegetables – warming, comforting, filling. Kicking leaves. Frost on the window pane. Darker evenings littered with stars. Birds flying south or returning for the winter. Looking out scarves and jumpers and hideous yet cosy pyjamas. Lying in bed read, listening to an autumn shower thundering on the roof above. Long hot baths, and emerging warm and safe and softly scented. Snuggling in bed with wine and chocolate, cosy and warm and glowing. Sleeping longer, thinking deeper.
Remembrances of a summer well spent, and hopes for a longed-for winter, all enjoyed in a season I adore.
I love autumn. 🙂