Here in London one day it will be sunny, close to 20 degrees, the next it will turn to cold rain and continue for three long days until you have forgotten that you were ever warmed by the sun's light.
Back home the autumn would creep up on you - like an old friend playing a common prank. I always noticed it most in the final weeks of August around 5 o'clock in the afternoon. It is at that time that I would feel the air change and suddenly I would notice how golden and rich the sun had become. I remember looking out the back door of Vintage Video, gazing at all the greenery growing on the back wall and noting how many leaves had fallen to the ground.
There is a change in the feeling; a gentle calm without any rushing - before the buying up of school supplies and the chore of homework. I know that Scout would also feel it as her playfullness would pick up, no longer the drudgery of hear weighing her down. The walks and games in the park would last longer, her tail wagging more lively and easily than in the heart of summer.
As the dinner hour drew near I would notice a smell that would sweep across the neighbourhood; of barbeques.
In Carp it meant my father making dinner on the back porch, home made hamburgers, hotdogs, and if I was really lucky - cheese filled sausages. With the Barbeque came the excuse to have as a side-dish: chips. As children this would be an immense thrill, a wonderful and thoroughly accepted alternative to peas and carrots or broccoli.
As the weeks rolled by I knew my Mother would come home with a bag of sweetcorn, picked up from the local area, to be cleaned and de-husked on the back porch in bare feet. Once cooked, every bite would be so succulant that the juices would drip down our chins. Such bliss.
Yes, here in London it is quiet different. The storms have not stopped and it is never ending rain upon us.
This year, I have missed my golden moment.
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