All change

It's that time of year, for me the one where I get the most vivid sense of seasonal change. It was a glorious summer in many ways, waking up to wall to wall sunshine, days upon days of eating outside in the garden, grilled food and chilled wine, this is what life is about - even if you are tied to London. Hard on wildlife of course, hard on my plants, and absurd on what passes for grass in these parts, but I'll take it over the chilly and miserable washout that was 2024. The various heatwaves were at times unpleasant I'll admit, especially after we were on the fourth or fifth one and the novelty had rather worn off, but we survived. I'd rather be warm than cold.

But I was also in need of a change and late last week it finally arrived. A bit of a chill in the air, a bit of a breeze, some bite to the weather. I am prepared. Ready. I was able to delay the big plant redistribution for several weeks later than normal, but over the course of several stints these past two weekends I've mostly done what was needed. The usual, a big tidy up in the conservatory followed by bringing in a few of the more sensitive plants from the garden and the greenhouse. It's still not genuinely cold in any way so I reckon I can safely wait to put the outdoor succulents in the greenhouse for another couple of weeks based on the forecast. In any event it is really only cold snaps in January and February that really present any risk. I view it as a huge drag when the task is looming, but once I engage and get going I secretly really enjoy the work, deciding what goes where, what order to do things in, a multi-stage to-do list that is deeply satisfying. When I break the back of it is the sweet spot, looking at the changes I've made, the results of the work I've done, autumnal order replacing summer chaos.

My wardrobe changes too. Clothes I'd essentially forgotten I owned get rediscovered, sometimes with moths. I've broken out my brown wax jacket again, and pulled out a scarf I've yet to really require. It feels good. Woolly jumpers have not yet been needed, but I am looking forward to those too, like getting reacquainted with a long lost fried. I might even start wearing my hat, difficult though that is.

Our diet changes too. Salads and grilled food have started to replaced with risottos and pasta dishes. Soup starts to feature again, a couple of weeks ago we a great fennel soup that was elevated to greatness by the addition of a glass of Jura chardonnay. We tried a new recipe from Tuscany, ribollita, essentially minestrone enhanced by stale bread - amazing! Last week we had Lapin a la moutarde, and this evening Woodpigeon. And as you can likely forsee the wine changes too. White Burgundy has taken a back seat, Rosé has vanished. Instead we are onto Piedmont reds and pinot noir from Burgundy. This evening I opened a moderately old Gevrey-Chambertin to go with the Woodpigeon salad and it was out of this world. The cork fell into a thousand crumbs, a nervous few minutes ensued, but the wine was divine and remained so all evening. I am excited by what is to come, what bottles I can now find excuses to open. And then of course the transition to winter that will require heartier fare, more robust wine. 

The birding is changing too. September was poor, the patch a dry, scorched shell. Birds didn't stop in any numbers, and various things I had been hoping for I never saw. A blank year for Tree Pipit and a few other things, I am going to be lucky to break 100 but I am fairly sanguine about it. We had a good morning last Saturday with over 1000 Redwings headed west. My first Fieldfare of the year too, having missed them in the eary part of the year. Brambling was a year tick too, small numbers amongst larger counts of Chaffinch and Linnet. Of rarities there have been none, I've been too busy to really go anywhere, and when diesel is close to £2 a litre you find excuses to stay at home and instead open a bottle of wine you paid for long ago. Scilly has looked extremely tasty, with two Sora, Wilson's Snipe and various other goodies, but it's too far and far too expensive. My trip there this summer for the Sapphire Pelagics has rather put me off UK holidays,  pleasant though it undoubtedly was my money can go a lot futher elsewhere. I still want to take Mrs L there, I think she would really like it. When we're retired and loaded perhaps. Oh wait...

European Storm Petrel, Scilly

So, all change. I needed it, my garden needed it, my bird list needed it. Lovely though it was I felt like I was in a rut, on a train I couldn't get off. By deliberately making myself busier outside of my professional life I feel re-energised in both when by all rights I should be exhausted. Now it seems as if there are far more possibilities, more options, more choices to be made. I like the thought of that.