This morning we drove John to Heathrow for his return flight to Seattle. I shall miss him, I wish he wasn't going, he has been such a support to me through the last several months, not least of all during my chemo and radiotherapy, but perhaps it is right he goes, he needs to pick up his life, but my heart is heavy to see him go. My falling silver tears were mirrored by autumn's falling golden leaves as I hugged my dear son goodbye, not knowing when I shall see him again.
It was a bright autumn morning, blue skies, endless sunshine which highlighted the golds oranges and reds on some trees. It is still a little early for most trees but together with the bright red hips, pillar box red haws, and the wonderful fruit of the rowan trees, whose berries are white, orange or vermilion ,from the car, the passing countryside is colouring up well and the next few weeks promise to be eye catching.
Warm coats, scarves and wellington boots will soon be the order of the day for tramping in the woods and rustling feet through drifts of golden, crispy leaves.
We continued our journey to Reading along the M4, the verges are now almost bereft of flowers, although one stretch was filled with tall yellow evening primroses. I have noticed in my own garden how the bees and moths love these flowers. I too love them their perfect flowers held high above other plants and every day more opening until they reach above my head, I also love the randomness of these plants, they suddenly appear, sometimes near to the parent plant other times quite a distance away. Wherever they show up I am pleased to see them and regard it as a bonus.
Through the car window everywhere is calm and serene, some fields are awaiting harvesting, others already harvested and yet more already ploughed, seeded and showing fresh green shoots.
Just before the A33 turning, we always look out on the right hand side for the fields of white horses, they are sturdy creatures and as I write I realise they may not be horses but ponies. We always wonder about them and their reason for being there, are they for breeding or just for someones pleasure? Seeing them always gives us pleasure, occasionally they escape onto the M4 and cause traffic delays.
Shortly afterwards on our left we pass large lakes devoid of wildlife and next to them fields of scattered sheep, and then more lakes. I wonder if these lakes are the result of gravel extraction. We pass a river and are at our junction.
The leaves on the horse chestnut trees are curling at the edges and turning brown, some of these trees are starting to shed both their leaves and their fruit, commonly called conkers. These shiny, round, beautifully marked, brown delights are to be found in their dozens at the foot of the tree, some still locked in their prickly green cases, others boldly brown waiting showily to be gathered up, and sometimes they are shyly hiding in their partly opened cases or even coyly peeping out of a pile of leaf litter, however they are there, there are few things more pleasing than gathering some up and taking them home to place in a bowl in order that their beauty can be enjoyed, before they fade and are put outside on the lawn for the squirrels.
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