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Denial
I’m in denial, avoiding the plain and simple fact that the nights are slowly drawing in.
Every night I sit out as late as I can, enjoying the breeze, watching the sky and the bats, my feet on the still warm flagstones on the patio.
I try to read as late as I can then turn the radio on the listed to the World Service or the Proms on Radio Three huddled into the fleece shirt I keep in the hall until at last it’s time to reluctantly give in and go inside.
The lingering look at the patio and the last gasp of air taken outside don’t help. Soon it will be Winter.
