I remembered what winter is like this morning.
I have a tendency to get very comfortable in a season, and by the end of summer I have usually forgotten what winter feels like.
But it came to me this morning in one go. It wasn’t the fact that it was a little chilly, and it didn’t even come to me when I was staring absent-mindedly out of the kitchen window, but when I opened my bedroom curtains to see the condensation on the windows and the frozen blue sky, it all came back in one big parcel.
I remembered how many clothes you have to put on, and yet you are still cold. The temperature gradient between being in bed and being out of bed. The deathly and emotionless, yet oft-lauded appearance of a frosted lawn. The demisting of car windscreens.
But first we have the leaves turning golden and falling off of the trees to go, and it has begun already. The skeletal, yet still living, forms of the bare trees. That’s reassuring at least.
Life goes on. Give it up for DNA.