AND the last we hope. Yes, revenge of the sugar rush!! Perhaps it was overloading my fragile system with all that chocolate. . . too late I threw the last crumpled foil into the bin to join the rapidly growing pile of tissues.
Anyway, Autumn's ode for me is no longer:
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom friend of the setting sun
but
Season of sniffs and hollow coughfulness
Close bosom friend of the windy gale
Don't know why I bothered with the photo - I'm sure you'd have got the picture anyway. Perhaps in a few days when the next photo is up there, it'll look so much the better for the contrast. I live in hope.
Until then, sniff, I'm off to sneeze again.
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