First time in years that autumn hasn’t suddenly happened on September 1. There’s a slight clean coolness in the breeze, but it’s otherwise 21 degrees and bright. Here I was, all ready to descend into the long autumn - it has a tendency to last into January, these days, and last year it ran from September to May. I realised last night that I’m booked, work-wise, until the end of the year. I’m actually almost disappointed that today it’s not cold enough for workshirts and a withdrawal from the grey skies into long easy days inside the house with spiced coffee and mulled wine.

The last of the butterflies are dancing in the garden. The last of the summer espresso in the cup. Waiting for the long autumn, but I’ll happily take the light while it’s here.

Morning, computer.

Reading: NETWORKS OF NEW YORK, Ingrid Burrington (UK) (US)