Well - I think that might actually be it. The summer that was. And it was, weren't it? Proper full-blast-summer-frock-rocking-sandal-wearing-sweat-in-places-you-didn't-know-you-owned- warm. After last year, I think a lot of us in Blighty thought that Summer was always a wash out. This year has reminded us how glorious it can be and how long it can stick around for.
But. I am over it now. You all know me - I am a Winter wanderling. First comes the leaves and the crunch. The foraged fruity bounty for the freezer and the slow sinking of the sun. And then.Then it hits you in the face with a cold slap.
I am hankering for woolen tights, big belted coats, gloves and hats upon my bonce. Meals with mashed tats and gravy. Or groovy as it is known round ours.
Seeing breath in front of my face as I walk to work and watching it disappear in the fog. Walking in the fog and worrying about walking in the fog. Being late for work because I have spent too much time staring out the window, worrying about it, said fog, and willing it to clear.
Yes - that. I am looking forward to all of it.
I am sure there are plenty of sunny days ahead, but all with that chill. Round your legs and all up in your face. The sort of chill that makes a long walk pleasant. Until you stop, and you realise just how hot you actually are.
I do so love it when the seasons change.
Oh yes, yes I do.