Ode to autumn

I grew up believing August to be the height, or perhaps the depth, of the summer, the only month that fell entirely within the school holidays. Somewhere along the line I seem to have shed that idea: now high summer is midsummer, when the nights are long, and it's all downhill from the end of June. By now I am feeling distinctly autumnal.

This isn't a bad thing. We drove home from Newcastle last night not particularly late, but in the dark, and drove across the Redheugh bridge towards the huge silver disc of the moon, hanging low in the sky and looking almost as wide as the carriageway of the bridge.

And the greengages have arrived! It isn't the greatest picture, but it makes me happy because I love greengages (and these were particularly delicious). I know they are really among the last soft fruits of the summer, but they're plums, and plums are an autumn fruit...