The rain beats grey against the window and people tell me they love Autumn, as I dig out my jumpers and thick socks, I find it hard to love. The sky is pale and it is cold, I hunker down into my coat and feel resentful. I know it would be boring if there were less distinction in the seasons. I know that, but I still don’t like the cold and the dark *petulantly stamps foot*.
Last year, when I’d not long had my camera, I tried to take photos of Autumn, I didn’t like the results so much, the low light and fallen leaves, it was felt flat, like the aftermath of a party.
I like the little things. Over the year what I’ve come to love about my camera is it reminds me to look at the detail, it enhances my love of the little things, the details.
Yesterday, was typically Autumn, cold with a pale sky. We spent the afternoon at Westonbirt the national arboretum, I’d hoped a mass of Autumn colour. That isn’t how England works, too many ever greens, and probably, we were a little bit early for full Autumn colour at Westonbirt. The colour is there and begrudgingly, I will say, it makes Autumn more bearable.
Westonbirt is great anytime of the year but it comes into its own in the next few weeks, visit if you can.