Thursday, 8 September 2005

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness”

From my desk – to which I am chained all day – I can see a big tree. It’s beautiful and very leafy. Because of it, in summer, I don’t get as much sun as I might if it wasn’t there – but I forgive it.

In spring, I sometimes catch a glimpse of a single bud or leaf suddenly falling down and I know a squirrel is having a feast up there. If I’m lucky I then see the little furry beast leaping among the branches. Delightful!

Today, I saw leaves falling – and no squirrel in sight. Autumn is around the corner.

I'm not Keats; I don’t like autumn (especially in the city). By the time winter arrives I’ve got used to the gloom and I can bear the cold too, but around now I get depressed by the waning of the light.

I’m slapping summer – my favourite season – for always being temperamental here, in London; for never living up to my expectations; for always being my busiest time.

And for not staying around long enough.


  1. I'll just go ahead and slap winter on its way in. Fall I can live with, but winter is the pits.

    Will also join you in slapping summer on its way out. This weather this summer was freakish: either too hot or too cold, with only a few weeks of really beautiful weather.

  2. I too will join you in slapping the passing of summer. It's very mood indigo inducing. I hate squash soup, and sweaters, and al the things which fall is supposed to bring. Plus ny work will be incredible busy until next April or so.


  3. Thanks, R and C. Glad I'm not the only one.

    suzwsob: it couldn't be more apt. LOL!


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