Autumn is here. The mornings are a bit more chilly, the sunsets start earlier.
The trees are letting go of their old leaves. It’s a time for long walks in nature – the air is crisp, the sky is so clear today. The poet in me is starting to write again, inspired by what I see. The poet loves spring and autumn, not summer.
I don’t know why – maybe because we tend to go more inside then, especially now.
It’s time for sweaters and hand-knitted socks, time for hot soups and cocoa.
Time to look back over your year and make plans for winter.