October's arrival

Tom Waits may have gone searching for the heart of Saturday night but today the Current Mrs Creel went searching for Autumn.   Not an easy task in a county with only 0.12% tree cover.  So the Gyre Plantings had to suffice.

However, other autumnal signs are discernible; a north eastern chill, curlews drifting overhead at night , the flocks of passing wheeping golden plovers.  Skylarks chirup only now and don't hang in the sky.  Meadow pipits continue to pipit.   All of the swallows and Martin's have glided away, travelling inter-continental.  We await the arrival of thrushes.

Song has disappeared.  Birds fly out leaving no address.  The Water Rail squeals and endures.  Stars shine harder; rooks flock and chatter.  Words blow buy.

Summer's crown has slipped.  All leaves are curated and taken to the leaf museum.

Bibs makes for the airing cupboard.

Robin Williamson sends me his annual autumn message 'it was a great time to be 17'.