The sky is a rapidly darkening blue-grey, heavy with clouds, and I can hear the drip of rain from the rooftops and the gentle swish of the cars on the wet tarmac of the street below. Many people I know feel sad on nights like this, mourning the loss of long, light evenings spent outdoors, but I have secret thrill within me, because this is the season that I love.
Tonight I am going to cook cauliflower cheese with purple cauliflower from the farmers' market, accompanied by a spinach leaf salad (grown by Mum) with orange and walnut dressing (oh Mr. Slater, how you inspire me!). I have both leeks and potatoes from Mum's garden in the fridge, calling to me to make a big pot of soup for lunches this week, and a bright orange onion squash on the sideboard (also grown by Mum - I am a very bad daughter for reaping all the rewards of her summer spent sowing, weeding and watering and yet rarely being around to help with it all! Thanks Mum!) which will probably be turned into a Sunday night risotto. I have the recently purchased Season 2 of Gossip Girl to nestle down with as the rain trickles down the windowpanes, and I am planning on having a long bath, my first of the season as I prefer showering in summer, with scented oils and possibly candles if I am feeling very indulgent.
I just had a phone call from M who had arrived home after cycling from Marylebone to Oval, in the rain. He sounded exhilarated. 'It was fun!' he exclaimed, 'damp, but fun.'.
I am glad it is not just me who gets a kick out of this sort of weather.