Summer and Winter

 It has been an amazing, balmy 22 degrees celsius this week. I've been walking the dog without a jacket on, and the sky is that bright cloudless blue of mid summer. And yet there are crunchy leaves underfoot, and the smell of someone's wood stove, and the garden looking barren. You know winter is coming, and yet it doesn't seem to come. I've got my boots and coat ready, the snow shovel by the door, the bag of de-icing salt in the garage. New tires on the car. I'm letting Brio's hair grow longer to keep him warm. And yet I'm still in capris and sandals. It's a sort of schizophrenic feeling.

My favourite thing about summer is the smell of newly-mown grass, and getting my hands into the soil in the vegetable garden. My favourite thing about autumn is the sight of bottled fruit lined up neatly on the shelves, and that scent of apples and leaves and damp earth. My favourite thing about winter is...well, staying indoors with a book, to be honest. Or that smell of fresh snow. The hush when you first get up in the morning to a white world, unblemished by car tracks or footprints. The glazing of ice on every twig of the trees. The soft bubbling of stew on the stove. Yeah, I guess there are good things about winter too.