Autumn

I lay there on the soft grass and looked through the branches of a not too mighty Oak at the clear cloudless sky above. Leaves at the furthest end of the branches were just beginning to turn. Golds, reds and browns, all heralding the coming of autumn. The neighboring Pohutukawa, an evergreen, had lost all of its summer blossoms and was now a tight mat of succulent dark green leaves, like an animal taking on body mass to nourish it over the coming winter months.

During the past seven years, the sharp contrasts of the Northern hemisphere seasons have become, for me, a calendar. Four distinct twelve week cycles that, despite global warming are a constant reminder that we are part of a greater mystery. and I shall miss them.

Unaware of my reminiscences, baby sat there in the pram, gooing and enjoying the late afternoon warmth. Children are so uncomplicated.