Jonathan: It’s now late autumn and the wind is a just a big bully, standing in our way and pushing us hither and thither whichever we we turn. And for good measure it will bring with it a blustry shower to soak us through. I’ve not got much done outside since I got home Sunday night. There’s been enough to do indoors for now: sorting through accumulated post, making arrangements for taking sheep to abattoir, collecting some lambs I’ve bought …
Jonathan: Still August -just! – but as everyone is saying it already feels like late September. There’s something about the light, the temperature, dew on the grass, the smell of the soil … and already dry soils and hot winds have resulted in some leaves turning golden already.
But how I love this time of year! Winter and Summer are straightforward in what they promise (though rarely live up to!). Spring and Autumn are seasons of contrast and contrariness: Spring of glad relief and untamed hope; and now in Autumn a time of poignant reflection … and a solemn dread of what must yet comem (not an exaggeration for Hebridean winters!)
How soon would I tire of life in a place that knew no seasons!