My favourite season is here at last – the day is growing shorter with the night creeping silently, stealthily to recoup the hours lost to the Sun. I love the crisp morning air as I get up in the morning as I open my door to the backyard, and I love the sensation of the dewy grass kissing my ankles delicately. I love seeing the plume of mist from my breath and from my coffee as I wander around in the backyard, taking everything in. I love the sunny dark blue sky – not scorching hot nor icily cold …
Autumn is different to Spring, when there is a buzz of activities in the air, of noise and movement – a juvenile show of energy and excitement. Autumn is quiet and graceful – silently blazing in the colours of the leaves and in the fluttering colourful scarves worn by passers-by in the city. Autumn is of people hurrying around quietly, bracing themselves against the cooling wind, like squirrels busy gathering nuts before Winter sets in. Autumn is the last hurrah before Winter claims the days as his and his alone, blanketing the earth with coldness and steely sense of distantness.
So I’m off to celebrate Autumn by my annual pilgrimage to the Adelaide Hills, looking at the glorious colours of the leaves, of the reddening Maples and Oaks and to select one that will accompany here at the Adelaide Plains.
Ah, Autumn, glorious Autumn!