We seem to be past the half-way point. The elastic can go no further and the nights are fair drawin’ in.
Summer is very bland, it’s like nature isn’t trying anymore. Of course it could be that nature is sitting back with its feet up, newspaper folded in its lap, having a wee doze while the fire burns in the hearth, dreaming about what kind of tricks to pull over the winter months.
The air was fresh after the rain today, I pulled my hood back as the downpour gave way to droplets and I swear I got a wee sniff of change.
I can’t help but pine for the dark nights, cold cheeks and a bunnet pulled down over my ears. Sure I’ll have to carry more weight in the hills, but never enough to take the spring out of my step (for long anyway).
I’ll probably look back at moments like my 7am summits in a t-shirt and get misty eyed as I peer out of the living room window in January at heavy rain falling onto slush as I cancel a camping trip.
Ach, whats life if you can’t look forward. And complain as well.