Despite actually being quite keen to get to work this morning, I travelled by the long route. The New Forest is too beautiful to miss at this time of year and, even though many trees have already given up on the whole photosynthesis jive, the custard maple still retains a smattering of leaves and the rest lie, like a sweet vanilla pool, around its trunk.
The roads were blessedly quiet and I enjoyed an unhurried drive, pausing only to watch a lapwing standing on the green and slowing a little to see some huge, half-highland bred cows with horns quite suited to moving pallets.
Last night, in the clear sky, on the way to play badminton, I saw Jupiter shining brightly down. Unsurprisingly, in the second half of November, it was jolly cold as a result.
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