Once autumn arrived, the change was subtle. Slowly, as the days shortened, the leaves on the trees started to change from summer green to the yellows and gold of autumn and this process continues.

It was last Monday night, however, that we had the first really cold night. I enjoy helping out on a fruit and vegetable stall at Clitheroe market. I love the busy nature of the job. There is the hustle and bustle of the market itself along with handling produce I love.
The trade reflects the seasons quite closely as products come into season and then their season passes to be replaced by something new.

It does, however, mean early starts to set up and as Wifey and I drove into work, along darkened roads last Tuesday morning, the outside temperature gauge on the car registered 5 degrees centigrade. The journey was punctuated with rain coming down like stair rods and there was standing water in the dip at Devil's Elbow. Thankfully, once we got to Clitheroe, we were able to do our setting up without getting wet.
There was, however, a chilly wind blowing which seemed to announce loud and clear that summer is well and truly over, autumn is with us, and winter is on its way.

With us now living in a global economy, you can have most products pretty much 52 weeks of the year. If you want strawberries at Christmas you can have them, but surely it is better to enjoy the bounty the different seasons bring. As soon as the temperatures fall, the appeal of summer salad goes through the floor. Cold days mean your body craves more substantial things ... comfort foods!

Thankfully, I married a woman who cooks very much according to the seasons, and equally important likes cooking for me. She selects produce in season so lighter cuisine is replaced by broth, hot pot, hearty casseroles packed with carrots and onions, and (in view of my waistline) once a week, wonderful hot puddings. With apples in season, apple pie is a favourite, but is a poor relation to her apple dumpling which is quite simply sublime.

Doing active jobs, which involve being outside most days, and owning Rory who is always ready for a trip up Pendle, or on the canal, or (his favourite) walking through woodland that involves splashing through streams, I always manage to work up an appetite. Rain tends to keep me indoors but cold is little deterrent. Indeed, working away in the back garden, with a mug of strong hot tea in my hand and the smells of dinner cooking escaping from the kitchen is a delight. Which is just as well as there is much to do!

Surrounded as it is, by mature trees, my garden seems to receive the world supply of fallen leaves. I try to keep them under control by collecting them up regularly. While they are dry and light they are easily sorted by the leaf blower. Once wet, they stick and start to rot down making them much harder to deal with. Piled onto a small tarp, I drag them to one of my compost bins where I tip them, allowing them to break down into leaf mould, which is a superb garden mulch.

If the weather is as wet as this next year, I may do away with the lawn and try growing rice in a flooded paddy field, but for now I am grimly determined to keep it down to grass. This area too gets covered in leaves in huge quantities and I gather these up with the lawn mower which thrashes them into much smaller pieces making it usable as mulch within a year. Sadly, moss is now very present on the lawn following weeks, nay months of rain, and I am going to have to dedicate some not inconsiderable effort into sorting it ... but not now.

The garden pond has become very overgrown during the summer, and I am fairly ruthless in hacking back excessive growth and cutting taller plants down to just above water level. My fish have almost stopped eating now as temperatures have fallen ... but the heron has not!
Remove too much cover, and with nowhere to hide, fish will be hoovered up in no time at all. The best idea is to cover the pond with a net to protect them, and in the process this will keep the bulk of the leaves out, cutting down on work next spring.

In the greenhouse, the tomatoes are just about hanging on but their productivity is falling fast. I have removed most of the foliage now and only the best have been left in place to ripen the remaining vines of tomatoes. They too, however, are on borrowed time. As I consign summer to the memory banks, I am bringing in my fuchsias, agapanthus and oleanders from the patio and into the greenhouse. I cut back luxuriant growth on the fuchsias leaving a rather stunted framework of stems and watering becomes a once a fortnight (at the most) affair.
Anything dodgy or sickly looking I consign to the compost heap. If you haven't got a greenhouse odd bits can be brought indoors. My chilli plant will spend the winter in our conservatory.

It is as well to keep on top of your gardening jobs as and when they crop up. A couple of hours gardening is good for your health and good for the soul. Once the land falls under the grip of winter it is much less easy. Anyway, it is starting to grow dark, and there is a chill in the air. Through the lounge window I can see a fire burning in the grate and a dinner of roast lamb, roasted parsnips, taties and onions await ... and afterwards ... roasted chestnuts. I love this time of year.