My seasonal awareness is usually driven by my running. I'm out, in it, immersed and consumed by the elements. There no escape. Why fight it? True, I mourned the passing of summer, but this Autumn has been exceptional. Spectacular, I'd say. But seemingly in a weeks time, the days will start getting longer., the nights shorter. Really...are we looking at the other side so soon? I'm usually craving the light mornings and longer evenings by now, but it seems my mind is occupied elsewhere and by and large I've been seasonally disaffected!
Except this weekend, it's been astonishingly grey. I mean super grey, greyer than an actual grey thing...but amazing. It was foggy at Congy parkrun yesterday, and the otherwise beautiful lake was just a memory as the waterside faded to grey and an invisible vanishing point. I was mesmerised by it. Then this morning I ran up Shutts, early...and seemed to catch a magical moment where the sun just caught the rolling hills and foggy valleys in a monotone, almost 2 dimensional vision. It was quite a thing.
Moments later, the sun gave the same vista an orange tinge as the morning light offered a sense of depth...and a hint of warmth, a beautiful picture, but that's been shared already. There's been a fair bit of tree felling going on at Macc Forest. It looks savage, brutal almost. Great piles of lumber lining the route down that drops off from Charity Lane. In the shadows of the hillside, all colour is robbed here also. Even the freshly cut timber had lost its colour and smell...only shades of grey. I loved it. It was a bitter morning, grey, but beautiful.
