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October is a changeable month, like a moody teenager; one minute lapsing into gloom and despondency, the next all sunshine and smiles.
One evening a few weeks ago, while those fierce winds were raking across our hilltop, we spotted something taking shelter by the hedge that runs along the field beside us.
Songbirds in the hawthorn tree in autumn
On the first cold clear days of November, murmurations of starlings ebb and flow through the skies.
A wet weekend was forecast, punctuated with thundery showers, and indeed Saturday saw a few squalls pass through, so when I slipped into the garden after breakfast on Sunday it was with the anticipation of soon being driven into the greenhouse by rain.
A week ago, in a short spell of sunshine, I paused at the kitchen sink when I saw an orange tip butterfly wheel past the window and alight on a clump of forget-me-nots in the border outside.
Hosted by Wordless Wednesday.