Autumn?

I find it difficult to believe that November is autumn. This disbelief is an annual event. Surely November must be winter?

I would prefer it if everyone admitted that Autumn is a two month season, September, October and winter is four months long, November through February, occasionally extended into the early part of March.

It would be more honest and manage our season length based expectations better than insisting all seasons are equally long.

Last week a colleague and I noted that a surprising number of trees still had many leaves. They apparently heard us, got someone to hold their beer and shed those leaves at speed. A beautiful, golden carpet of leaves has settled on the parks and pavements of London.

Tread carefully.

Ps….

The last words of this post reminded my romantic sister of this Keats poem…

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

However, what her un poetic, much more practical sibling had in mind was being careful not to slip up and break a hip, or, take care not to step in dog pooh disguised as a leaf.

Sorry.