It’s little wonder the Americans call it fall. It’s the end of September and the first leaves are starting to float down from the trees onto the ground. Down in Cornwall the sycamore leaves are always the first to unfurl in the spring, and in the autumn they’re the first to fall.
And whilst it’s a bit sad to be waving goodbye to the long warm days of summer, there is something very reassuring about seeing the leaves change colour. My mum once heard a radio programme with a guy who described ‘good days’ as ‘through leaves days’, in that they had that same satisfying feeling you get on a crisp autumnal day when you find a fresh pile of crinkly brown leaves that you can rustle through and kick. I guess a ‘bad day’ would be finding a big dog poo hiding under the leaves ;)