It looks as though it is going to be a rather pleasant day today. At a quarter to ten in the morning a pale sun is beginning to show through, but by golly it is considerably cooler than a couple of days ago. And I understand that this is even more apparent down in the South East, so Rachel and Derek - get ready for your Winter woollies.
As it doesn't look as though I shall be moving any time soon I might well have to unpack the box marked 'Winter coats' - my thin clothes will not be adequate if this carries on.
This afternoon is our Poetry afternoon. I am now going for a shower and to get dressed and take Tess for a walk. Then it will be time to choose my Poetry for the afternoon's read. And yes, Tom, I shall indeed start with ' Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness' because I always do given the chance. It is one of my favourite poems and was my father's favourite too.
One of the poems I read was 'Gunga Din'; I came across when I was looking for something else and when I read it I realised I have never read it through before. Kipling is not rated highly these
days and certainly had what is now seen as a racist attitude, but nevertheless it was an interesting poem to read.
As the day has gone on it has got cooler. Walking down the road with Tess a short while ago I saw how frantically the House Martins were working. One of these days in the not too distant future we shall wake up one morning and they - and their cousins, the Swallows - will have gone. Already they are beginning to go South in their droves. making their way towards Africa and a warmer Winter. Not all of them will make it; the weaker ones will fall by the wayside, but the strong and healthy will be back next year, remarkably back to their old nest sites and will then breed strong and healthy chicks. Nature at its very best.