I left the pub and it was freezing. The air was so frigid that it went up my nose and into my mouth and filled my sinuses, in exactly the same way it did in Manchester, since its only ever cold in Manchester. It didn't help that I was standing outside of the pub with a cigarette, which is also standard for Manchester. This is despite the fact that I wanted to leave that behind, and despite the fact that it's part of what ties me to the first year that I miss so much. Either way, by the time I had taken the train and gotten off at Alexandra Palace, I had decided to take the longer route home by walking through the park. This didn't alleviate my feelings that winter was encroaching, because, by the time I was descending the hill and walking along the path with the overhead London Limes, I could see the occasional orange leaf in the trees and on the floor. And whilst it was almost so beautiful the way the leaves on the floor were reflecting the orange of the fake LED sodium lamps, I still couldn't help the fact that I didn't want it to be winter yet. It can't be winter yet, because winter is, generally speaking; "not very cash money". And don't get me wrong, its lovely to be reminded of Manchester and my time there, and I think winter is an incredibly beautiful season (in the same way that I have come to appreciate the beauty of every season in its own way), but it cannot be winter yet. Because its not my birthday yet. Because I finished the sailing season two weeks ago. Because its still not the end of summer. Because I haven't started my job yet. Because I haven't finished everything I wanted to by the end of summer. Therefore it cant be winter yet.
Despite that, its so beautiful, and time moves on, and it might be winter soon.
Its the first evening where it feels like it could be winter soon, and it smells amazing, but I don't want it yet.