Extra warm beds in extra cold houses. The thought of not having to rise, but being able to keep snuggled in among the pillows and covers with a hot water bottle and a cup of coffee. Being able to balance your laptop on your knee and discover the new shows slowing waking and coming back to life, eagerly anticipated.
Drawing back the curtains to be met with a day bathed in dimmed golden light as the sun struggles to brighten the world beyond the mountains. Those first chunky rays breaking through the branches of the ever emptier trees to cast rich shadows across the dew dropped petals and blades of grass.
Trees and flowers and birds preparing themselves for the months ahead. Watching as trees grow silent, allowing their noise to be whisked into the air and dropped to the ground beneath. Golden browns and rusted reds littering the pavement and leaving no option but to crash through with wellies and delight. The fruits of their labour swelling and plummeting into the high grass, cracking and splitting to reveal the shiny conkers within.
Consuming hot drinks from take-away cups, fingerless gloved hands wrapped around the styrofoam cup, absorbing every ounce of possible heat. Or sitting curled at the window of a coffee shop with a book in your lap and a pumpkin latte sat next to you, the perfect scent for autumn.
Walking home under skies that grow ever darker. Being absorbed by the night.