I’ve always loved autumn. For as long as I can remember.
There are so many reasons why I’m thankful for this time of year.
The crisp cold mornings, bright blue September skies and the smell of fresh rain on the tarmac – all things that pre-set my brain to happy and ensure I’m ready for the day.
The beautiful golden leaves that crunch underfoot and inspire me to take long impromptu walks in the countryside and the woodlands.
Woolly socks, thick scarves and cable knitted jumpers make me feel cosy and warm.
Call the Midwife.
The dark wet evenings where street lights bounce off wet pavement and a misty fog begins to form like a scene from a movie.
Working at home, meaning I don’t need to brave the cold, rather appreciate watching others in the morning rush while I drink my coffee, whilst still wearing my dressing gown.
The smell of bonfires, fireworks and curried parsnip soup a subtle reminder that Christmas is looming. Which means I can watch Elf, again, for the hundredth time.
Cosying up on the sofa with a good romantic novel, a deliciously scented candle and the first gingerbread latte of the season. Pulling out my winter coat and picking my pumpkin and Halloween outfit.
Nights in and long walks, followed by a pub meal by the open fire. Pinecones and horse chestnut trees with conkers falling around you. Soups, stews and slow-cooked meals galore.
Seeing my daughter all dressed up in her matching hat, scarf and gloves with her rosy cheeks from the cold morning air.
Mine, my daughters and step-son’s birthdays in September, which is always a time of great joy, presents and lots of gin.