October

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It’s turning cooler now, and I enjoy that feeling in the air. The threat of rain is less enticing but a change is a change and I salute them when they come. Dull, grey skies are a reasonable trade-off for those stark, crisp, blue days which we find scattered along the way.

Sunday’s grey drizzle made for good running conditions as M and I plotted a curved route south, making for the City and terminating our run at St Paul’s.

It never fails to amuse and humble me that we can step outside our flat and run (or walk!) to such significant landmarks.

One week earlier we had run to almost the same spot to see the inspiring sight of many thousands of marathon runners filling the roads as they passed the 24-mile mark on their way to the Mall. Their efforts have once again compelled me to enter the ballot for next year’s event.

I read the words of friends who herald the coming of the new season in a way I find somehow harder to comprehend. Our flat is comfortable and modern, but coming with that is the hermetically sealed environment which traps in a steady warmth of 22c or so, and the limited windows make it hard to feel connected to the light and conditions outside.

When I am made more aware of the sunrise and sunset time each day by the automatic blueing of my smartphone screen, it tells me I have become almost completely detached from the natural world in a way that makes me rather sad.

I look forward to some more outdoor adventures in the coming weeks: walks where the length of the daylight will become crucial as we race the sun to the horizon (although we will be marching east and we will have to salute the sun at midday as it heads on its own way west).

Lately we have returned to lighting candles in the evening and that is absolutely one of my favourite things to do during these shortening days. That their heat makes our modern living room warm enough to sit in shorts and tee shirt is a little disconcerting, but the fragrance and the flickering light and the ritual are all things to love about this time of year. Such a primitive joy from creating a fire for comfort in one’s home.