Autumn has been heralded here in the south by misty mornings and hot days. For a week or so we have made the most of the late summer sunshine coming at the end of what has been a very wet spring and summer.
Yet the year presses on apace; mornings are cooler, dampened by heavy dews creating swirling, short lived mists, evenings in the garden are over sooner and the time for relaxation between work end and night time seem to be filled with manic activity in an effort to make the most of the shortening gap - the shortening day.
Most people will tell you that they like autumn - Keats' 'Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness' - the changing colours, the fire lit evenings- yet still a sense of sadness prevails. We say as we get older that time flies faster - tempus fugit and all that, but the speed at which the seasons are spinning by remind me of HG Wells' Time Machine - particularly the 1960 movie in which Rod Taylor plays George Wells -sitting in his chair as the years, the fashions and the Changing world flash by faster and faster. As Autumn approaches each year we take the opportunity to look back and wonder 'where did that year go?' We assess our part in it - was it successful, was it a good year, did we enjoy it, did we make the most of it?
Winter can be depressing - dark nights and mornings, barely any time for outdoor activities - but we should make the most of what the season offers. We can embrace the hearty fireside occasions, a time to catch up with friends and families, hot, robust stews, casseroles, soups and curries - but we can also get outside.
Dress up warmly and go walking, even if it's just around your local neighbourhood, a good pace will soon warm you up - the hardest part is finding the motivation to put on the clothes and pass the front door. Sunlight on your skin, even on a cold day, will soon banish a few winter blues as any fisherman knows. Winter sunshine has a greater capacity to cheer; its low angle creates wonderful clarity, long shadows and the joy at seeing its winter face so rarely.
There are many foraging opportunities too; chestnuts, rosehips, sloes and myriad mushrooms to pick up along the way. There are warm pubs to make toward with hot fires and smooth ales, and then the comfortable walk back home, smug in the knowledge that one didn't languish stagnantly in front of the television, an accomplishment seemingly rarer these days. Should you pass anyone along the way then a secret smile and a nod will be tacitly transferred between kindred spirits, souls content with the robust ruggedness of autumn and winter wanderings, weighed down with the pockets full of hips, haws and husks that such a walk can produce.
Smugness can be healthy too, sometimes.....
