September

 Summer slips irrevocably into Autumn. Colours fade to shades of brown; the sun rises slowly and casts long morning shadows. Evenings draw in; the blackberries ripen. On calm days the mist rolls in from the sea. Children return to school; campsites empty; cafes close.


 I think wistfully of this time last year when my time on the Professional Writing course at University College Falmouth was all before me.
Come 10th September this year it was over - apart from the results - and now another group of hopefuls is preparing for their initiation.

On the coast path I encounter my friend Reg who tells me there were two Croydon power stations, and when I last wrote about him I had him working at the wrong one. Sorry Reg; I seem to apologise to you a lot. I also met Alistair with his gentle rescued racing greyhound Preacher Boy, and a young family with their excitable dog, Daisy.

The countryside exhales, and settles down to see what winter will bring.