Rich autumn colours smile at me as I write this. Rich greens and turning trees reflect the evening sun shine. What a strange summer and early autumn. There was no fruit on the trees, save for a few pears on the old pear-trees. The tail-end summer produced some black-berries before the local farmers hacked back the hedges; and there a few hazel-nuts (noisettes) but no wall-nuts (noix).
A bicycle ride into Épinac was brisk: colder that I’d expected, but – again – sunlit in the wind. Twigs had been blown down from the trees onto the cycle track. Sun light lay across the way in front of me like a series of benign steps, a shadow lain tapis roulant.
I’ve had the fire lit a couple of times. The barn awaits a colder winter with fuel stacked ready.