Autumn Bouquet...

Each changing season brings its own scents and although I love the first sniff of freshly cut grass in the spring, there is nothing to beat the smell of autumn.

Growing up in an ex-mining village where nearly all the houses had coal fires, one of the first smells to signal the arrival of autumn was the smell of the lums (chimneys to the non- Scottish blippers :-) as the chill in the air forced us all to get our fires lit.

Before the age of 9 I had no idea what central heating was. All our heating came from coal fires and even the bedrooms had coal fires. I still remember the magic of falling asleep watching the shadows and patterns made on the bedroom wall by the dancing flames, whilst listening to the reassuring crackle coming from the fireplace. Snuggled in my bed like that, I felt it was the safest place in the world.

Of course I shudder now when I think of how I was probably one spark away from being barbecued in the event of a stray spark landing on the acres of nylon that were probably in the vicinity (well it was the 70s! :-) but thankfully I survived.

One of the other joys of having a coal fire was getting to put a slice on thick bread onto a toasting fork and toasting it at the fire, before spreading on lashings of butter. In all my years I've never tasted anything as good as fireside toast and I suspect I never will, mainly because in order to recreate that delicacy, it would have to be a November evening between 1970 & 1976 and I'd have to be sitting at my Grandpa's feet, on the rug in front of the fire, passing the bread he'd toasted to my Gran, for her to spread the butter on. If I close my eyes though, and concentrate really hard, I can almost taste it.

Out this afternoon and I spotted the smoke in the hedgerow and immediately liked the autumnal scene. I stopped the car, rolled down the window and as I took the photo, the smell of the smoke reached me and I was immediately transported back to my little village and standing outside my house as a child, in the dark autumn night, looking at the bright stars and smelling the lums.

What a magical season.