utumn has many delightful facets. I love it's rich colour palate, and it's warm remnants of summer, it's harvests and final blooms before sliding slowly towards the colder, darker winter. I like tights and cardigans. I like soups and stews where salads had grown tired.
I feel maybe I am heading into my own Autumn. I know traditionally the 'Autumn of your life' refers to old age, and I am not quite at that point yet, but for me old age should be winter, with its snowy hair and knitting by the fire. If Spring is your childhood, and Summer is your prime, perhaps Autumn is the rich period of life that kicks in somewhere around forty. A time when we reap our finest fruits, and settle in the calm netherworld between the high jinks of youth and the frailty of old age.