Monday 21st September 2020

It is the end of the harvest season. In our garden the raspberries are coming to an end, and the thrushes and blackbirds had our gooseberries again. Leaves have that aging look to them, most with brown edges showing that soon it will be time to sleep. Or die.

I have seeded the lawnmeadow, dead plants have been removed and Jools turned it into compost with her new heated composing thing, and on Tuesday light will equal dark and the winter nights will draw in.

It is now dark before half seven, too late by seven to do anything outside, and we ponder putting the heating on as the nights get cooler.

On a daily basis, plant and flower catalogues tumble through the letterbox, tempting with glorious hypercolour photographs of things we might like for next year.

We make plans, and we also cross things off that would not work.

We also are making plans for travel. Long have we dreamed of flying to New Zealand, and now we have the money to go, and I have cleared it to have unpaid holiday if I need it. And we can't travel. Yet.

But we hope next December 1st, that is 2021, we hope to climb aboard a jet to fly south for at leat two months to expore the north and south islands, meet an old friend and take some photographs.

We hope to reserve some tickets and have told our planner to make reservations.

It is happening. If, and a big if, if COVID were to end. Otherwise, who knows?

We can but dream.

But the sun rises each morning, slightly later than the day before, and causing a mist to rise, so dawn's first light is difused, red and angry. Cats scatter after being fed, sometimes there is hissing an chasing, but that soon passes as the cats find somewhere to sleep and the kittens look for something to play with.

Jools goes for a walk soon after sun is up, I should go with her or go on the cross trainer, but it isn't good and, well, I have broken the promise to myself.

Sigh.

But I get dressed, put on shoes and walk to the bottom of the garden to pick fresh raspberries for breakfast, cut up the last of the strawberries in the fridge and get the coffee ready to be put on once Jools returns.

And with no morning meeting now, we can eat breakfast together, chat before I start for the day.

Few mails had come in over the weekend, but there is the usual auditors meeting. We talk about audits and responses.

Time passes.

I have more meetings, phone calls.

We have lunch.

It is a glorious autumnal days outside, the sun shines through the haze, low in the sky so that it shines through leaves and petals.

But not for long.

At four we go out, to drive to Kingsdown so I can hunt for the Long Tailed Blues. We park at the bottom of the cliffs and climb the steep path up past the golf course, so I can stare for an hour at a patch of brambles and everlasting pea in the hope of seeing a rare butterfly.

I see none.

Again.

At half five with the sun so low there is nothing but shadows, we go home so I can cook dinner, braded aubergines, what with it being summer.

I pour a large glass of red wine once they are cooked, we toast, and then eat.

THere is football on telly in the evening, but even with the new season, having no fans takes the edge off. I watch half of the first game, most of the second, but it is thin gruel.