The sun streams through windows this morning and I am reminded that this is likely to be the last of summer. September has crept up like mist, bringing with it darker evenings and colder winds. In hindsight, I have waited so long for Autumn, but now I grasp at blue skies and warm air with desperate hands. 

Still, the promises of warmer waters and white sand lurk in the distance, although unbooked I revel in the ocean swimming and fresh fruit breakfasts. Birds make patterns in the sky out of our bedroom window, and I know today will be a good day. Mum and Denis have a cottage on a farm, cosy and small with billie. We are planning on a rest in the tub, our weekly shop, then a light lunch whilst the football is on. We'll watch Joe play at Great Bentley later, and then dinner with Pete's family. 

Autumn has me a little nostalgic, and I feel like I'm young all over again - those days at University where I would plan London adventures and countryside walks. 
I'm dreaming of Camel coats, freshly baked sugar biscuits, ankle boots, oversized scarves, burnt amber leaves on trees, golden sunsets, conkers, open fires, apple crumble, candlelit evenings, coffee-shop people watching, wellies, slow cooked dinners, pub lunches, long walks, peaches, porridge, BBC dramas, last of the summer greens, roasted vegetables and braided hair.


Flickr Photostream

Twitter Updates

Meet The Author