Autumnal things

Origami bunting, three fingered, hangs like a limp crane with an elongated neck and tired wings. Strung out on rope, they stretch from house to house, shop to shop, heralding the autumn festival.

Oranges bejewel the trees in the vegetable garden; cheerful and plump, they promise sweetness. Crows linger over them with bright eyes.

Persimmons, pumpkins. Pears, bronzed and speckled.

Chestnuts, released from their urchin-armour, roll smoothly upon my palm and shine in the light. I recall conker fights and sore knuckles. Oh, the pain of a conker striking the bone of a clenched fist!

Mushrooms. Shiitake. Dainty white-caps. Yellow caps. Orange buttons. Delicate flavours for nabe pots.

Cardigans and cloche hats. Berets. Knitted shawls. Brown boots up to the knee.

Rich sunlight, chilled twilight. The blankets are doubled. Pyjamas are shaken from their summer hibernations.

Green leaves with scarlet edges. Impatient for koyo and the fall of red stars.