This time last year we were in Europe.  RB taught the kids conkers, and my backpack ended up filled with horse chestnuts.  Eventually I had to play the “Australian biosecurity” card or our luggage would have been entirely displaced by them.

I miss British trees, all three types of them (that said, horse chestnuts are one of those many British things that are not, as the Horrible Histories song points out, British at all). But I’m glad that this September, for us, it’s the vernal equinox, not the autumnal one.  The days are getting longer, not shorter: there’s time for gardening not just on weekends but even after the commute.  Daylight will soon be saved, praise the lord! (or better, praise be to Eostre, Freya, Persephone and Osiris!)

Northerners, relish your turning leaves and your harvest-time.

For those in the south, may your newly planted mustard greens and radishes refrain from bolting.

Everyone, may your days be equal to your nights!