SWITCHBOARD IN AUTUMN

There are lots of ways to tell that Summer might have ended. One, was the other day, when a tiny, unripened apple fell onto my car with a clonk.

Another, is the shortness of the evening, and suddenly no chance at all of sitting out in the park, watching the sunset like I used to. I frequently get home in the dark nowadays.

Mostly though, you can tell, because the weather has switched into Autumn overnight. And I do mean overnight - last night, the final hurrah of the heatwave gave way to a four-hour thunderstorm that rattled the windows, boomed across the valley, and flooded half of West Berkshire. Today, the sky is miserable and overcast.

I wandered round the lake at lunchtime, skipping over the standing water where it had lapped up onto the bank. There was a cool breeze rustling through the reeds and rippling the surface. It won't be long before that breeze carries a chill and a whirlwind of crispy leaves with it.

Of course, with the disappearing sunshine, I'm much more likely to get a bit depressed. Plus, the changing of the seasons affects me anyway. Right now, I feel like I need to be completely rewired, just to remind myself what my purpose might be and exactly how I'm supposed to tick.

I do sometimes feel like I'm a gigantic switchboard - some things are set to off, some things are on. Dials go spinning round and levers get stuck. When the season flicks from one thing to another, it's like a whole new configuration of switches. Some rewiring might help.

Or perhaps I should soak up as much Vitamin D as I can while the sun shines.