Time goes by.

Yesterday began with blue sky and sunshine and went rapidly downhill. By the time I had returned from my run and showered, the clouds had moved in. An hour later it began to rain. The rain didn't last all day but on the whole it was a bit of a washout. Oh, yes, and there was frost on the grass up at the Cricket and Bowling Club first thing. 

Today, by contrast, began dull and cloudy and improved as the day went on. I would not describe it as a total success but a distinct improvement on yesterday. Out on my run this morning I met Jack, an old gent with whom I have a sort of a nodding acquaintance. Well, perhaps a bit more than just nodding; we are on first name terms now, after a few years of my stopping and chatting to him on my run. Usually he parks just beyond the Cricket and Bowling Club (of frosty grass fame) and walks his little dog, and occasionally his daughter's little dog as well, a hundred yards up the road and back. Today his little dog, Rosie, who usually ignores me totally, waddled up to meet and greet me. Like other residents of this village, she has taken time to accept me but now clearly regards me as a local and, therefore, her friend. Clearly, no-one has told her of my aversion to small, happy-type dogs but that's the way it is. 

Reading the newspaper I have learnt that we may be in for a warm October. Of course, that might only apply to the south of England. Here in Saddleworth our proximity to the Pennines often prevents the good weather from reaching us. I also read that Alaska may become the new Florida by 2050. Climate change is no longer a future problem but one which needs facing today. 

Be that as it may, autumn is shaping up quite nicely, with some rather fine colours around. So here is my latest poem on that topic. 

    Seasonal changes. 

Autumn lays her colours down,
Sets up her stall. 
None of the green brashness of Spring,
Although it seems only days
Since we admired HER fresh insolence: 
Parading her slender youth for all to see. 

Summer dealt with her, 
Forcing her pale innocence 
Into dusty, darker greens 
And hidden shady places 
Away from his brilliance. 

But now Autumn comes 
To set things right,
Deep reds and oranges, 
Burnt yellows and ochres, 
Bright browns,
In one last fling 
Before Winter with his white cruelty 
Locks all the colours away.