As soon as I see the bindweed flowers engulfing the roadside hedgerows I know that summer is almost over.
The flowers are so pretty and delicate and somehow have an ethereal quality that makes me dwell on the passage of time and the changing of seasons.
Perhaps it is also because my birthday falls at this time of year - it was, in fact, yesterday - and with each passing year I'm conscious that I've already lived - if I'm lucky enough to reach the three score years and ten - just over two thirds of my life and I've no idea where most of it has gone. I always find the end of summer extremely sad almost like saying goodbye to someone dear to me and this year it seems worse as we really have had little in the way of summer to cheer us and to warm and strengthen us to face the winter months. The mornings now have that vaguely autumnal nip in the air and I'm aware that things around me are changing. Change of seasons this year means a change of lifestyle for Paul and I as our plans for selling up, downsizing and ridding ourselves of the mortgage are put into action it may take a while but it will happen and I know it will take time to get used to the idea and to let go of the many things I have found here. In the meantime I'm going to enjoy the last vestiges of summer and try to be positive about whatever the future may hold.