Over the last couple of days the wind has shifted direction and the weather has altered.
Now instead of a breath from the Sahara that actually brings sand with it, we have pure air blowing from the Alps.
It may well mark the end of our wonderful Italian summer, although we’ll probably have an Indian summer.
For some, the change brings unwelcome reminiscences of the end of the summer holidays.
For me it has a challenging feel, as if my soul were being cleansed and hollowed out – similar to when I hear church bells.
It’s what I call a ‘wolfish’ sensation – a pleasurable thrill of fear.
Ideally anything I was writing would have reached this time of year in its plot because I so enjoy directly incorporating observations and details.
However I’m revising a novel at the moment so I’m out of step almost all the time.