You know you’re much more my season than the burning heat of July or the wicked winds of a February morning. I like you because you allow me to wrap myself up in blankets and coats and hide away from the world in a safe haven of duvets and jumpers.
It feels like no time at all since you were last here, let alone 2 years since we last spoke.
As always your breeze feels like everything is new and the cobwebs of what was are brushed away along with late hot summer nights and dancing the days away with friends in beer gardens. Your adventures bring much more humbling thoughts.
There’s nothing I look forward to more than walking through the streets of Oxford on a morning where the sun feels cold but the wind doesn’t batter my cheeks until they’re red and sore.
You’re the season of change and I can’t wait to get to know you again.