Elegy in a City Graveyard

There's something indefinably elegaic about an English churchyard in the autumn.  The peaceful drift of falling leaves, like swirling flakes of burnished metal.  The gentle wind through naked branches, the distant call of birds.  The colours a mark of the end of the summer; the gravestones a solemn reminders of our own mortality.

Not that the girls give a monkeys about any of that.  What they want to do is jump in the fallen leaves and kick them all over the place!

Being out and about in the autumn is one of the great treats of living in England, and the seaside in autumn, to my mind, is far more beautiful than in the height of the summer. Wrapped up warm, you can't beat the bracing winds, gorgeous waves, fabulous cloud formations.  And lovely chips too!

(pics: Bowthorpe Cemetary, Norwich.  Southwold, Suffolk)