As autumn leaves fall, subversion is in the air

Wenlock Edge I listen for owls and smell the wet leaves that awaken some wordless feeling like a very misty memory

This has been one of the most vivid autumns I can remember. Days of clear skies and bright sunlight have been plenty this year, and apart from some fog there have yet to be many washouts or frosts. This warm, sunny, weather has been wonderful in the trees, and the furnace colours of oak, birch and beech, the buttery sycamores and field maples, lemony ash and golden syrup limes, have been spectacular. But surely this happens every year, more or less?

Every year the deciduous trees change colour before falling. Every year before winter there is a burst of transition that looks beautiful, and our feelings for it have something to do with an increase in wild food mammals need to bulk up for the winter. The absence of chlorophyll to mask leaf pigments before the tree jettisons them hardly captures the significance of autumn colour or that sense of wonder in seeing the woods shine brightly like a bedtime story before the long sleep.