Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

These lines from John Keat’s Ode to Autumn captured my imagination in Sri Lanka a long time ago. But the words came alive life during my first autumn in the UK, as I walked through swirling mists to university each day. The foliage turned fiery, and apples swelled in the trees. Here, as I walk down the Lagan towpath, apples are swelling up and fragrant. Bees are tumbling crazily over autumn flowers in our garden. Evenings are drawing in, and mists will soon curl around our windows.

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