Season of scarves and cosy wistfulness

It's cold. It's the first really cold day of autumn. I suppose I've been clinging on to the idea that it's still summer, because we didn't really get one and the recent days have been deceptively sunny. But the rowan berries are fully red and the blackberries are almost over, and this weekend brings the equinox. From now on, the nights will be longer than the days, the mornings will taste of frost and the evenings will smell of woodsmoke.

I like this part.

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