Am I the only one looking forward to winter?
I just love the season.
The pleasure for me starts when the leaves turn to russet and that first stormy day whips them from the trees and sends them flying. The fact that they all seem to come flying into our garden and cause us a week of work just brushing them up is only a small penance to pay.
We live in a beautiful part of the Yorkshire Coast, and all summer long our town is buzzing with visitors. Shops and cafés are crowded, beaches are packed, pavements are busy – and finding a parking space is near impossible.
The shops and hotels are delighted of course, and I would never grudge them their business. But I have to admit to heaving a huge sigh of relief when the tourists finally pack up and go home.
That usually happens at the end of the school summer holidays. And while it’s been lovely to see families enjoying themselves on the beaches, I can’t tell you the joy of walking on those same sands, and around the harbour, when there’s hardly another person in sight. Mightily selfish? I know.But I love it.
I have to admit though that there’s also a sadness about the seafront when the arcades are shut and the kiddies rides are wrapped up for the winter. But it will all happen again next year, so I don’t get too nostalgic about that.
The pictures here are some that I took the morning after Guy Fawkes Night, when the air was still misty and smokey from the previous evening’s bonfires and fireworks.
Guy Fawkes was born in York, not too far from us, and there is a delightfully quirky old pub near the Minster with a cottage in the beer garden where his family were reputed to have lived.
It’s all part of November. There’s a nip in the air now, and we’ve just turned the central heating on. Shop windows are shimmering with good cheer, ‘Strictly’ is back on the telly, and Christmas is just around the corner.
What’s not to like?