My street, 19th November, crisp morning. Autumn colours are my favourite – and the smell, ah man.
I’m a bit of a dreamer, it’s never gotten me far at the best of times, admittedly, but it means I appreciate a lot of what I see around me that others may find pointless, boring or ugly. While Londoners were all clutching at their wool coats and bundled up to their eyeballs in scarves this morning, I was bounding along my street on my way to the tube with Feist singing in my ears.
Then I saw ‘The Park’. It’s so special to me, surrounded by flats where all my friends lived, I grew up playing there, kissed my first boyfriend under the slide and even cut my leg (resulting in scar for life), just yards from the park gates. Memories.
So I am always looking back at it, checking up on it and my childhood memories; the tall trees that were planted after the 1st World War cast a gorgeous mass of greenery during the Summer, providing shade during our “
hot” warm spells and this great leafy, earthy smell that is otherwise foreign when you live bang smack in the middle of concrete jungle central London. So during the Autumn / Winter months when the leaves turn brown, fall and cover the ground in a mural of brown and gold – I find it so magical.
Now the leaves are blowing away and it always reminds me that the Holidays are coming; so when I looked over and captured this moment, I suddenly felt festive.