I’m sitting on the train shivering, tucked into my winter coat before September is even out. The leaves are tumbling and mulching and there is a fading orange glow to the sun. Breath rises in plumes and hands are thrust into pockets. Eyes are watery and scarlet and cheap perfumes nip at the nostrils. Autumn is here and it’s chilly. But there are compensations. The trees take on coppers and russet and custard yellows. The air carries the scent of peat and distant, smoky bonfires.
And let’s be truthful this really isn’t cold. Iowa in January, that’s cold………click here and see.
A few years back