Autumn into Winter

It's been rather a while since my last post and I don't have any good excuses to provide, such as climbing the Alps or moving house!  Unless of course a trip to Colorado counts... more of that next post.

Here in Clermont, Summer gradually and gracefully gave way to Autumn as the landscape slipped out of its metaphorical sundress and into the firey, golden-brown cloak of the 'season of mists and mellow fruitfulness'.  It was beautiful to behold!  The colours were breathtaking and even a simple walk to the boulangerie became a technicolour spectacle.

Clear blue skies and crisp mornings have become the norm - with some cloudy days too, naturally - along with occasional fierce winds blowing outdoor furniture across the garden and severely shaking the shutters, followed by unnaturally still, breathless days where leaves remain static on the trees and by the coast the sea is as flat as an oasis, yachts and skiffs perfectly reflected on the mirrored surface.

It's been a glorious time of year for walking dogs, smelling the woodsmoke from log fires, reacquainting ourselves with red wine rather than white or rosé, planning heartier meals and hauling out the Slow Cooker. 

Autumn has now very definitely waned and Winter is here.  With it arrived the Christmas decorations in the streets and squares, appearing almost overnight and with no grand announcements or ceremonies.  Some of these decorations just stay up all year and we are expected to turn a blind eye to them until they are suddenly illuminated for the festive season - a very curious French habit, I have to say!  Many of the decorations are beautiful and I appreciate them all the more for the light they give to the chilly, dark nights. I never could adapt to fir trees, tinsel, reindeers and sleighs in the forty degree humidity of an Australian Christmas; Winter and Christmas just feels 'right'.

We leave Clermont in a week and take up residence in Marseillan, my old haunt from early last year. We are not looking forward to the move (who does?) but Alex is delighted to be by the sea once more and our quirky new/old house in rue Auber will give us a genuine taste of French village life.  I'm wondering if I am up to the challenge of making a bûche de noël for a traditional Reveillon, the Christmas Eve dinner that forms the main celebration of Noël in France. Possibly not, so I have a back-up pudding as well!  We have retrieved the pets' Santa hats from the shed ready for their annual participation and are debating which is the best spot for the tree - it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!