You have to look – and sometimes very closely – but discovering small patches of woodland or flowers bursting through concrete makes me appreciate nature all the more
One Friday morning last October, when we still could, I drove down from Brixton in south London to Somerset. It was one of those autumn days people anticipate in the midst of a sticky summer, with pillowy mist and low-lying sun trying to get through it. Even hurtling down the M3 was gorgeous; trees filling in the shade card between chartreuse and maroon, buzzards circling overhead.
I spent the rest of that weekend mentally checking off an autumnal bingo card. Woodsmoke from chimneys in chocolate-box villages; hedgerows on the cusp of change; woodpeckers flying over trees; that perfect nip in the air. It was delightful, and it was bittersweet. For the first time, I realised why people gave up the rat race to live more rurally. After a soggy few weeks in the greyest of Londons, autumn just seemed better out here.
Continue reading…You have to look – and sometimes very closely – but discovering small patches of woodland or flowers bursting through concrete makes me appreciate nature all the moreOne Friday morning last October, when we still could, I drove down from Brixton in south London to Somerset. It was one of those autumn days people anticipate in the midst of a sticky summer, with pillowy mist and low-lying sun trying to get through it. Even hurtling down the M3 was gorgeous; trees filling in the shade card between chartreuse and maroon, buzzards circling overhead.I spent the rest of that weekend mentally checking off an autumnal bingo card. Woodsmoke from chimneys in chocolate-box villages; hedgerows on the cusp of change; woodpeckers flying over trees; that perfect nip in the air. It was delightful, and it was bittersweet. For the first time, I realised why people gave up the rat race to live more rurally. After a soggy few weeks in the greyest of Londons, autumn just seemed better out here. Continue reading…