Life here in Argyll is pretty good as autumn wanders in. It has been a poor summer if you look only at the weather but, if you live with the weather rather than fight against it, it’s been a lovely summer. As The Big Yin (Billy Connolly) once said, “There’s no such thing as bad weather. Just inappropriate clothing.” On behalf of struggling writers everywhere, my answer to Big Yin would be, “That’s fine for you to say when you are a millionaire Scotsman who can afford any amount of waxed cottons and Gore-Tex but for the rest of us the weather up here has been rubbish!”
Anyone who lives here would acknowledge that it has been short summer. It started late after a very cold spring and now the autumn leaves are already well into their golden demise. Our American cousins use the words The Fall to describe this autumnal change where the leaves turn golden brown and yellow and then drop to the floor covering everything and making life difficult for the infirm. The Fall is such a well chosen phrase and, as far as I’m concerned, hits the horses nose bang on the nail’s… head’s… money.
A boy, in leaves.
I remember well, time spent as a lad, kicking through mounds of fallen leaves in the gutter along the appropriately named Bushey Road and Barnsbury Road near to my primary school only to find that some blighter had hidden within, a brick or a heap of dog shit. Happy days…
