1. I take advantage of the sunny morning and go to the allotment. I reclaim the strawberry bed from brambles, dig up some more tap-rooted dandelions, sow a load of bought & “seed”-saved garlic and clear the path to the main gate. Autumn is taking its toll – everywhere is covered in leaves and the late summer plants are closing up shop – but I still pick a generous serving of runner beans, and a handful of mange tout.

1b. I’m on my own, in my own little world listening to podcasts about times gone by, when I see a movement out of the corner of my eye: a sleek grey cat walks slowly down my path and along the bed edging we installed the other week. I “prurp” at him – he pauses momentarily and half-raises his tail in response before continuing on his way: I see you, and I know you talk cat, but I am on a mission here, things need smelling!

1c. I get a lungful of delicious scented air as I walk behind the coffee shop. As I cross into the residential streets, the pavement is littered with pumpkin shards and from nearby doorsteps, whole specimens watch me pass.

2. As I’m walking back from the allotment, I see a plane talking off from the airport on the distant hills. I watch its slow, silent climb upwards. Later, as we’re going on a dog walk, another plane is crossing overhead: its sunlit trail a glowing white against the blue sky.

3. The only dogs we see on our walk are other springers.

4. A line in an old Simon and Garfunkle song: “there but for the grace of you go I”. I much prefer it to the usual version for obvious utter-heathen reasons but also because it applies to my everyday existence with John: we are both so much better off for the grace of the other.