Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

Albert Camus said this.

I LOVE autumn. I love it even more when it isn't called fall. Fall is one of the (very few) Americanisms that annoys me. I don't know why - perhaps it's because the word autumn has pleasant associations so I don't want it to be replaced by another. Fall sounds so abrupt.

Poppy, my mare, matches autumn. A colour-coordinated horse she was today. She likes to be stylish.

This morning, we had the most glorious ride on Ashdown Forest. (Poppy enjoyed it so much that she put in the biggest galloping buck I've ever sat, just out of sheer exuberance. How could I be cross? I managed to stay on. I was still alive, wasn't I?)

No more words - just pictures.

Season of mists...

...and blazing glory

....all the time watched by sheep

I must be one of the luckiest people in the world to live here.