Small acts of defiance

I love autumn. I love those periods of transition. Digging out the fleeces, woolly jumpers, gloves, feeling the crisp air. I love that elusive smell that says “summer is over, everything is changing”.

I’m excited when the leaves turn brilliant colours, and at the same time love the sense of preparing to batten down the hatches. I start to cook stews and braises again, hanker after richer, earthier tastes. Everything seems to start slowing down, heaving a big sigh and snuggling up to wait out the winter. And there is something wonderful about watching the garden head in to dormancy.

But.

I also love all the things you do in autumn that are about the future. The bulb planting, the plant moving, the reassessment of the borders and planning how to make next year even better. It is the time I start to pore over seed catalogues and websites and dream of the wonderful things I could grow. And best of all, it is the time for sowing seed.

So I love walking in to the greenhouse, thinking about starting to tidy up the last of the tomato plants, and being surprised by a glint of green through the condensation on the propagator lid. These little emerald specs seem, to me, to be bucking the trend, sending up new growth when most things are winding down. Small acts of defiance.