I’ve already eaten a blackberry from the hedgerow so I shouldn’t be too surprised, but I smelt autumn for the first time on Sunday.
A violent storm drove us from our garden bed at 6 am and ever since the forest and air have the odour of fall.
It is always like this here, the final day of the festival heralds the end of summer, as if there is an unwritten code that it should be so.
Gone are the suffocating fires of mid summer, replaced by the slow melancholy of autumnal thoughts.
(http://www.guardian.co.uk/global/2009/aug/02/germaine-greer-unicorns)
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