It is summer still. Noticeable during daytime, with warm sunshine and the faint smell of hay lingering in the air, now that greenkeeping has done away with all the hard rough. But a certain chill in the air at daybreak and the lack of daylight at five in the morning, when I usually wake up, indicates autumn lies in wait already.
As I type this, the little clock on my computer tells me, it’s almost six now, and the sun is not visible yet, although it colours some clouds pink on the piece of sky visible from where I sit. This morning definitely has the sense of an ending, leaving me with some sadness. Soon to be replaced by my joy with autumn kicking in in full.
I love the swing of seasons during the course of a year. Same as everyone else living as far north as Berlin, I’d maybe prefer the dark season shorter and am in want for more of the bright days. But I am sure, appreceation for those last days of warmth and light expected during the next couple of weeks deepens, knowing about winter lurking just around the corner.
btw: the sense of an ending I like this phrase in itself and while I typed away, I realised, it is not my creation at all, but something, I remembered. And now it came to mind: “The Sense of an Ending” is the title of a great novel by Julian Barnes.