Autumn truly is what summer pretends to be: the best of all seasons. It is as glorious as summer is tedious; as subtle as summer is obvious; as refreshing as summer is wearying.
Autumn seems like paradise. –Gregg Easterbrook
The sun hanging slightly lower in the sky. A chill dances up and down my spine as I leave the house in the mornings. Having to apply lipbalm more often than usual.
All clues that Winter is on her way back. Which also means my favourite season is fast approaching.
It was only once I’d moved to the UK that I truly appreciated well defined seasons. Growing up on the Highveld, Summers blend into Winters blend into Summers. There was no spectacular display of colours. Trees and grass appear to change from green to brown/bare and back again, almost overnight. I never owned a winter coat back in South Africa, or lovely knee high boots. There was no real need for cosy scarves, luscious leather gloves or sassy hats. All of which I’m looking forward to donning as the days grow shorter.
Spring is magical in its own way with Mother Nature slowly awakening from her Winter slumber. But for me nothing beats a crisp sunny Autumnal day, feet crunching and rustling through bronze leaves.