I'm sitting in my usual spot, laptop on my knees, cat staring up at me wondering if he can squeeze his fat furry body in between my keyboard and my stomach. No cat, you can't.
The rain which was almost deafening on the roof of our conservatory has just stopped and I can hear birds celebrating the weak evening sunshine with some happy chirping. The sun is not enough to warm the room though - I have a cosy fleece blanket over my knees.
The smell of a warming autumnal food wafts through from the kitchen and I'm almost certain my friend will light his log burner later to take the chill off his centuries old rooms.
I like the season but can't help mourning the loss of summer.
Nothing beats the warmth of sunshine on your skin, the smell of hot pavements, the feel of sand under your feet and the sound of waves on the shore.
I already have a trip to Cyprus booked with my husband - we plan to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary on the island my mum calls home now. My favourite moment is that first intake of breath as you stand at the top of aircraft steps. The air is warm, the smell of hot fuel combined with maybe a hint of flowers and food in a foreign land. There maybe the hum of exotic insects and in Cyprus, sometimes the tree frogs sing their distinctive song too.
Back in the UK I love the freedom of walking out of the house unencumbered by coats and brollies, heavy shoes and bulky sweaters. I love having the roof off my cabriolet car and inviting my friends to watch the sun drop over the horizon which for us is farm fields.
Soon the stores will be filled with tinsel and a backing track of relentless Christmas music. I look forward to sprouts, mince pies and seeing in a new year.
But for now, I look back at this picture of my own legs taken as I lay on the hammock I shlepped back from my last Cypriot trip, I look at that glimpse of glorious blue skies above and I can almost smell the freshly cut grass.
I miss summer.
The rain which was almost deafening on the roof of our conservatory has just stopped and I can hear birds celebrating the weak evening sunshine with some happy chirping. The sun is not enough to warm the room though - I have a cosy fleece blanket over my knees.
The smell of a warming autumnal food wafts through from the kitchen and I'm almost certain my friend will light his log burner later to take the chill off his centuries old rooms.
I like the season but can't help mourning the loss of summer.
I already have a trip to Cyprus booked with my husband - we plan to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary on the island my mum calls home now. My favourite moment is that first intake of breath as you stand at the top of aircraft steps. The air is warm, the smell of hot fuel combined with maybe a hint of flowers and food in a foreign land. There maybe the hum of exotic insects and in Cyprus, sometimes the tree frogs sing their distinctive song too.
Back in the UK I love the freedom of walking out of the house unencumbered by coats and brollies, heavy shoes and bulky sweaters. I love having the roof off my cabriolet car and inviting my friends to watch the sun drop over the horizon which for us is farm fields.
Soon the stores will be filled with tinsel and a backing track of relentless Christmas music. I look forward to sprouts, mince pies and seeing in a new year.
I miss summer.