I’m watching and feeling the changeover. Nine days ago we were still basking in the late glow of autumn. The shadows fell warmly upon the wall and the tiles glowed. The air was still, and I rested in the illusion that this could last forever.

Now the southerly gales are blowing, leaves are scattering, and the light has turned pale. Late autumn is here, and with it, melancholy. My thoughts turn to endings, and loss. I always find it hard to say goodbye to the golden days.