Well, that’s all then. The week or two of sun in September’s gone, and ‘Summer’ went with it. Not that it makes a lot of difference: it might have been summer according to the tilt of the planet, but I don’t think this region was privy to the information.
Today was one of those mornings. I woke late, missed my bus, the taxi came late, and as I stood at the back door trying to shock myself to life with coffee and nicotine, I got drenched to the bone. Work was dead, all day, so I shut up early and headed through the park to head home. There’s something about wooded areas when it’s drizzly and grey that can be quite uplifting, though, if you face it with the right frame of mind. Wet earth is nowhere near as depressing as wet brick and concrete.
Another good thing about the rain is that most people flea from it, as if it’s raining fire. That means you get the place to yourself, and the mood seems to lift easier. Nothing keeps a pissed-off person annoyed so much as someone making a conscious effort to ‘cheer him up’! 
Ok, I’ll be honest. I’ll confess my kid’s personality and let it frolic. I found some conkers and pocketed them. I couldn’t help it – the smooth, woody skin and fresh pithy cases just begged to be lifted and kept, so now they sit beside my monitor. Not long ago, a squadron of geese honked over the house just as it was darkening. Who cares if Summer’s gone?
Never trust a grown man who can walk past a smooth, pristine red-brown chestnut and not pick it up. There’s something dead within him!
