Autumn

Autumn.

Autumn happens for me thrice a year, which I suppose makes me rather special.

But for me, autumn isn't a season, a time of year or even a colour scheme - damn you, you property programs.

No, to me it's a a series of events that happen every year, where ever I've been. Each on it's own can anytime, anywhere...but they never do.

The first happened weeks ago. It's a thing of sunlight and colour - as you drive or walk somewhere, the setting sun streaming across before you. The leaves on trees all golden, yellow and red - that surprise, because you've seen one tree or two in colour - but the striking sight of them all in golden sunlight.

That moment of realisation that the end is in sight. Not here yet, or even near - but inevitable.

Sight is the first - but the second is smell. This time, here, it happened last night. Dusk, late in the afternoon...the world around you in dying shades of grey. The sun, now gone...

The mist and fog swirling - but in the air, catching at your throat like the echo of great sorrow the tang, the tickle of woodsmoke in the evening air stroking the back of your throat. Permeating the air around you, the burning of wood to drive back the cold and hunger of night.

Finally...last of all comes the moment when all around you is dark. Through the windows you see nothing but darkness and lights. Not yet six o'clock and the people hide in their homes. All desperately trying to deny the truth - that the night has won again.

That the sun and moon have lost to the stars, fleeing the sky from a terrible force they can never defeat.

Winter.

And winter is here.