Outside my window at the moment, the activity level is high.
Every time I look, nature is frantically making its final preparations before the cold really hits.
The fat, sleek squirrels sprint along the fence tops like slightly crazed mothers on Christmas shopping duties. And Mr & Mrs Fox have taken to climbing trees or conquering roofs to complete their foraging for the season, still a little devious looking in their movements.
Along the streets the leaf carcasses now lie in a thick carpet, waiting for the winds of the autumn to carry them away to a place they can break down in peace.
But as the fauna finalises its winter holiday prep; and the trees strip themselves of their obvious life, that magical holiday feeling has begun to pepper London. Whole streets are bathed in twinkling lights, and as the thermometer drops, we begin to think of mulled wine, ice skating and thicker gloves.
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