I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that summer is over, which is always difficult for me.
Saying goodbye to those long summer evenings and days spent at the beach with friends depresses me beyond belief.
I resent winter long before it arrives. I keep my eyes peeled for the shortening evenings, the chilly nip in the air or the first crunch of frozen ground. I loathe winter.
Autumn is never usually favorable in my books either, as it is simply a drawn-out precursor to winter’s deadly grip. The trees shed their leaves and the days begin to disappear.
However, I have come to realise that I shouldn’t be so pessimistic or wary about this seasonal change but find the positives.
I’m not trying to be all ‘Wordsworthian’ here, but it’s almost impossible not to appreciate the way light filters through the trees…
Now, I can’t go making any promises about winter just yet, but autumn I think I can just about get used to.