First signs of autumn

It's odd; the newspapers and the BBC are saying all the signs are that this will be a late autumn; yet everything I have observed suggests the opposite. A straw poll around the office (very unscientific, I know) produced similar thoughts to mine. Everyone has seen prematurely yellowing leaves, early blackberries and plums, and so on. This morning there was heavy, sparkling dew on the long grass, and for the first time this year I saw cobwebs covered with dewdrops, too.

I've noticed that the first blackberry-gathering expedition has got steadily earlier - when I was a kid it was a September activity, about ten years ago I remember picking blackberries on my mother's birthday in late August for the first time; now I am planning a session this coming weekend.

But this year, the official version disagrees with my amateur phenological observations. No matter; I know what I've seen. They look like good blackberries, too.

Not much else going on; chugging along at work, which is steadily busy at this time of year; a terrific Prom on Monday with the gorgeously (& most appropriately) Byronic Maxim Rysanov doing a lovely job of the delicate and difficult solo part in "Harold in Italy"; nothing yet from the first literary agent I sent "GY" to; and I've had my first courgettes, runner beans and french beans from the garden, but no tomatoes as yet.

And I've had some more bizarre horoscopes. Yesterday, a long-lost beloved was meant to come back into my life, a changed character. I must admit to being pretty relieved that this didn't happen. I'm honestly not too sure I'd want some of my past best-beloveds back. With the benefit of hindsight, I have usually ended up thinking "Thank goodness that didn't work out the way I wanted it to!", about a year after a relationship has ended.

Today, I'm meant to have a chance to make a romantic connection with karmic overtones. Oh, my!...