An autumnal tinge

For once, it's a beautiful day. The sun is blazing down on a landscape made green by the torrents of rain and hail that have battered the countryside for the last few weeks. The wind has dropped and it should be possible to walk the dogs today without being blown off course. All in all, it's a lovely morning. And yet... the last day of July should be high summer, but the sky is turning to autumn, as are the trees. The light is all wrong for this time of year - it has the pale, washed out brightness of a September morning rather than the full blown glare of summer.

Now, I like autumn. I love the bright, fresh mornngs, the clear air and the smell of winter in the distance. But I don't expect to find it around me in July! It all adds to the feeling of the brevity of life, the fagility of existence, not entirely helped by today's activity of keeping the crypt for an hour and telling visitors about the rather colourful past of this border region. It's not for nothing that the one word it is rumoured the local reiving families gave to the English language is "bereaved".

Yesterday, I managed to sort out the arrangements for after my demise - a very big thank you to those who agreed to my requests! You know who you are... - so, despite the early onset of autumn, my outlook is distinctly more positive. The hospital letter - the one I didn't want - said that Nurse will discuss my case with the consultant to see if I can be discharged from the hospital. That can only be good news from my point of view. If January 2010 is the last time I have to deal with the anxiety of "the visit", I can stop wishing my life away. Ever since the first time I had to go to the hospital, I've been dreaming of and longing for the day that the visits stop. Now I have that day in my sights - unless the consultant refuses to agree. It would be so lovely to move on to the next phase.