Autumn

No season of mists an mellow fruitfulness; no beautiful golden red leaves; no misty mornings which one knows instinctively is an 'autumn morning'. For me no discussions about meteorological use of months or general acceptance of the equinox as an indication of autumn. It's not the fact that this morning it's still raining and blowing a gale just as it was when I went to bed. It's the fact that this morning I was up at 6.25am and I had to put the lights on. For me that means it's now autumn. Soon I'll be able to get up at 8.30am and have to put the lights on. Then it will be winter.

Oh what a difference a day makes. Yesterday around 7am it was like this:

Today it's like this:

The Grape Harvest

Last year in the Lot-et-Garonne I tried to photograph the grape harvest but the grapes were pathetic specimens and certainly not photogenic.  I am always looking for the rich beauty of the grapes that I photographed in Tuscany some years ago.  This year at Viv's I had more success and the autumnal hues of the leaves were a bonus:

Feelings of Autumn

Considering that it's nearly October the weather here in France has been excellent: warm and sunny.  However this week some of the mornings have been distinctly autumnal:

Sunflowers ready for harvest on a misty morning

An Autumn Morning in Villeneuve

I didn't post yesterday and if I'm not fairly quick I may well not post today either.   I've been pondering again.  I'm in that sort of mood this evening.  Anyway I've decided that that post belongs in another place.  So this post is hearkening back to our time in France which seems so long ago.  In fact looking back I posted very little of the three weeks in France.  Perhaps I'll rectify that over the next few weeks.  I shall start with two photos take on an autumnal morning in Villeneuve-de-Duras.

The Mists of The Lakes

When I were a lad (and I once were) I used to spend lots of time in the Lake District. The last sentence has to be uttered with a broad Lancashire (or even a Yorkshire) accent for it to be taken seriously. Seriously though as soon as I could drive I used to go up for weekend out of the summer tourist season and stay and walk the fells: often with my pal Walter. It was in the Autumn that the most spectacular colours and light occurred from my point of view. You know the 'season of mists and mellow fruitfullness' colours. Anyway today I started scanning some of my old colour slides into the computer. Here are just two. This could become a repository for memories if I'm not careful.

Borrowdale early on an Autumn morning

Derwentwater early on an Autumn morning