A lovely one, but then I always say that. I did an early morning walk with my sister and my dad, a solid hour about the Hills. Lovely winding streets, the leaves turning and falling and the sun making it’s way through boldly, everything English and deciduous, elegant and gold. And then rough dirt paths in the bush where it feels like nothing changes but everything’s in motion, nature’s other cycle.
Victoria and I had lunch in the early afternoon and talked about the hard stuff. I mean, life isn’t all lattes and fancy toast (though it’s that too). Things are difficult and sad and scary, there’s beauty and excitement and still layers and layers of grief and worry - the great joy and weight of all this change I suppose. Thank goodness for hearts and minds like hers, I wonder sometimes how people get through without friends this good.
I got home to this mountain house and spent an hour or two letting the light change. Reading and tidying and pottering - I love waiting till the very last to close the blinds and turn the lamps on. These autumn nights are getting closer.