Even though I always yearn for spring almost right after Christmas, it’s still October that is my favourite month. There is still a reminder of summer with the last roses blooming on the one hand (New Dawn, which grows right behind our back door is best here) and on the other the splendour of autumn with the purple asters, bright red berries and colourful leaves.

What’s so special about October is those still days that create a very intense atmosphere. Starting with blankets of mists on the fields and the stillness only interrupted by the song of the wren or the far-away chattering of some geese at the lake. (In spring, when the first birds have arrived, it is much noisier in the morning — now most of them are already on their way to Africa.) Dewdrops make the leaves of the lupines, lady’s mantle and even the grass leaves seem precious. Spider webs look like artistically knitted strings of pearls. Slowly the sun starts warming everything up — if you have a late breakfast, you can even enjoy it outside. The sunlight is still bright, but somewhat dimmed, bringing out the colours much sharper than any summers day can. Everywhere there is the strong scent of moist soil making you want to dig up the earth, plant new bulbs or shrubs.
Finally the day ends as it began — the sun setting firework-like behind the old oak trees. Bird sounds can only be heard far away, maybe the odd thrush makes a short uproar because you disrupt him, but otherwise the stillness returns. The mists come up from the lake descending on the fields covering anything that might hurt the eye, creating an impression of peace and protection.