Monday, 13 October 2008
Lemon and lime jelly leaves floating off the trees liked unfulfilled promises or scuttling in a sudden breeze rushing to serve some purpose before it is too late. The tree outside the doctors is nearly bare and last week the leaves were the colour of red wine and raspberries falling on a green chenille rug. Now the grass has been run through with a blade for the last time this year, leaving a thick, damp seam of cuttings, smelling damp and sweet and slightly rotten. Over ripe and ready to turn, maggotty apples make the wheels on the buggy spin. Flowers still carry on as if nothing was happening, feigning summer- a rose says " I'm ready for my close up" all Sunset Boulevard style but she is past it and I have passed it by. Complicated season of mists and mellow fruitfulness and a time of reflection of the mainly-done year and endings and beginnings and getting busy and prepared for the season to come. Before we look once again for the sun and all it's promises of another turn on the merrygoround.