The weather was gorgeous yesterday and, following a full English breakfast at the local cafe, we decided on a walk along the Eden river. The sky was deep blue and dotted with white marshmallow clouds, but although the sun was bright and warm the air contained a nip which initially raised the hairs on my arms to brisk attention. Summer is almost over.

Hawthorn hedges were spattered red, alongside bushes weighted with black elderberries, and mighty Beech were already turning rusty copper. Gone were the chattering Sand Martins, already on their epic journey back to Africa, and the piping call of Oystercatchers was absent as we descended to the river’s edge. The water, though inviting, was cold to the touch.

It doesn’t seem two minutes since I was preparing the garden for summer and I now find myself preparing it once again for winter. The apple tree has had its annual hair cut, the last of the Sweet Peas have been picked and both bees and butterflies fight over fading pollen on the Purple Loosestrife.

The wild meadow behind my house has been cut, but is still home to Swifts and Swallows…….at least for now. We watch in awe as they dance in the setting sun, effortlessly scooping insects on the wing. Pond Skaters still skim the pond and, as we sat sipping tea on the garden swing seat, a dragonfly flew in front of our faces! The resident Sparrow Hawk alighted on the sun lounger, unaware at first of our presence, as it scouted for a meal. I’ve picked the last of the plums and the first of the apples, and am still making jam from the rhubarb which shows no signs of slowing down!

For days now the quiet air has been filled with a haunting cry. I couldn’t work out what it was at first, then realised it was a juvenile Buzzard perched on the branch of a distant tree calling its parents, circling overhead, for food.

I know some parts of the UK have struggled with arid heat this Summer, but here in the far north it’s been almost perfect and, while even we need the rain, I’ll be sad to see the end of long lunches on the lawn and evenings swinging to and fro as the sun dips over the distant fells.

The new Camera Club season starts next week and I haven’t taken half as many pictures as I should have and those I did manage to capture haven’t yet been edited. I can’t bring myself to be indoors when the sun is shining, so maybe when the storms of Autumn arrive I’ll make a start on some of the creative pictures I have swirling about my brain in the studio. Watch this space!