The evenings are drawing in. It’s already dark, although it’s only 9 o’clock, and sitting in front of my kitchen window I’m very aware that I still haven’t made it the blind that I promised I would.
Yes, I know, it’s still August. And that’s summer, isn’t it? And I love summer, don’t get me wrong. But there *is* a definite tang in the air. I felt it first last Monday, and put it down to being completely washed out after a long but lovely weekend in the north east of France at a friend’s wedding. I thought: my body calendar must be completely out, it’ll be back to normal soon.
But it persisted, I can’t shake it off, and so I’m not trying to any more.
Much as I love long sultry summer days, endless evenings sitting outside with a book, nothing to do, nowhere to be, I don’t mind. Autumn is my favourite season (although you might find me saying that at any time of the year about any season.) There is something about it that feels like new beginnings. It must be something that’s drummed into us from the age of four when we first put on our new shiny black shoes and check that our crisp white shirts are firmly tucked into bottom-halves for our first day of school. A feeling that this time, the new start can lead you anywhere. You’re fresh, you can do anything and be anyone. And I love it.
Appropriately, the song that sums up that feeling for me is the one that we always used to sing in assembly at the start of the school year, back in primary school, called Autumn Days, by Estelle White. It was such a
cheesy catchy tune, that if we sung it in the morning, we’d still be singing it at lunchtime. And similarly, now it’s popped into my head, it’ll probably still be there tomorrow. I don’t fancy explaining it to my boss (in German,) so it’ll have to stay firmly on the inside!
So, all together now!
Autumn days, when the grass is jewelled
And the silk inside a chestnut shell
Jet planes meeting in the air to be refuelled
All these things I love so well
(Chorus) So I mustn’t forget
No, I mustn’t forget
To say a great big thank you
I mustn’t forget.
Clouds that look like familiar faces
And a winter’s moon with frosted rings
Smell of bacon as I fasten up my laces
And the song the milkman sings.
(Chorus, sing up children!)
Whipped-up spray that is rainbow-scattered
And a swallow curving in the sky
Shoes so comfy though they’re worn out and they’re battered
And the taste of apple pie.
(Chorus, sit up straight please, children!)
Scent of gardens when the rain’s been falling
And a minnow darting down a stream
Picked-up engine that’s been stuttering and stalling
And a win for my home team.
(Chorus, one last time!)
So, here I am, saying a great big thankyou for autumn.
(Although any more sunny days that might be hanging around, waiting to make an appearance, I’m still up for it!)