“When is autumn, exactly?” she’d say, peering out the rain-streaked window of her flat in Hackney.
One October morning, she stepped outside and stopped. The air didn’t bite, but it nudged. A crisp, sweet cold that smelled of wet leaves and someone’s chimney smoke. The chestnut tree on her street had turned—not all at once, but in patches: amber, rust, a single branch of lemon yellow. when is autumn in uk
Then she deleted it. She walked to the café on the corner, ordered a pumpkin spice latte she used to mock, and sat by the window as the 11:15 sun made a brief, glorious appearance. “When is autumn, exactly
Her flatmate Tom, born twenty miles down the road in Essex, would shrug. “Officially? Late September to late December. But really? Autumn’s when you feel it.” A crisp, sweet cold that smelled of wet
She texted Tom: It’s now.
Maya pulled out her phone. “When is autumn in the UK?” she typed.