The Autumn Wind and ...

It's always awful when you sense the autumn breeze for the first time, as I did this morning, and with it, the winnowing sense of foreboding that thins all sense of joy - the withering of the sun, the culling of the evenings and the long trudge of descent into the damp dullness of Dublin winter.

For a summer bee like me, it's hard to accept that what was simply common currency these past few months (the endless sun and balm of the greatest summer weather I ever witnessed) has now reverted back to the usual old dull-as-dishwater disappointment of eleven degrees and leafless trees and mucky sodden grass.

I sometimes think our personalities are largely forged by the weather we are dealt. Relentless sun makes us fiery with enthusiasm, relentless snow and ice makes us hard, resourceful and determined. Relentless shit half-arsed squally old bollix makes us ... from Dublin!  :)

Ah, well at least I have my mem-or-eees of my summer bees!

More soon ...

"My fickle friend ... the summer wind"