Autumn can be fiery, filled with colours of reds and golds in magical contrast to an icy blue sky. When she is like that - the air feels charged and filled with a melancholy buoyancy - a heady mix of decay and beauty where frost sparkles on seed heads and the air has a metallic tang herelding winter.
Here in the lea of the Pennines, we err on the side of damp dreary soft autumns with low cloud screening the sun and the sky. So when there is a day which seems to have escaped the doldrums we have to make the most of it and get out.
We're so lucky to be able to step out of our house and stumble on to a path within moments and although we already knew that, it never seemed more important than ever during lockdown. Now, when we do a local from home walk - those feelings we had when our world shrank to our homes and immediate surroundings return in a flash, we were never more grateful for our pathways around the village.
And I am still.