The other day on my dawn walk, I thought I could smell autumn in the air. It’s a unique smell, sharp, tangy, new, a scent that tells me the seasons are changing.

Of course I could be completely wrong, but I think I’ve always been able to smell it. It’s a sign that summer is ending. The balmy – or too hot- days of summer are giving way to the mellow, calm autumn.

Literature is full of the beauty of autumn. Someone – I can’t remember who – said, ‘A fallen leaf is nothing more than a summer’s wave goodbye.’

Shakespeare said regretfully in one of his sonnets,’ Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.’

Keats called autumn,‘Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun.’

Tennyson wrote beautifully, ‘Lo! sweeten’d with the summer light,
The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow,
Drops in a silent autumn night.’

(I ought to mention for some readers that Lo! Is an old exclamation that draws attention to an interesting event and not a misprint of Lol.)

Fitzgerald suggests that ‘Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.’

Wolfe writes beautifully. ‘Then summer fades and passes and October comes. We’ll smell smoke then, and feel an unexpected sharpness, a thrill of nervousness, swift elation, a sense of sadness and departure.’

I love the evocative scents and tastes and the vivid pictures words can bring, and autumn has many gorgeous descriptions.

I’m a summer child – I was born four weeks prematurely, in June – and I love the sunshine and the beach and everything that summer means. But there’s something in the rich, sweet, mellow moments of autumn that are so beautiful. Abundant fruit. The soft sunlight and shadows. Cool evenings, misty mornings. Russet leaves on the ground and the smell and spiral of woodsmoke.

And of course with autumn comes the promise of winter, crisp frosty mornings, log fires, steaming bowls of  nourishing food.

With the romanticism of winter, shimmering Christmas lights, bonfires, mouth-watering  feasts, comes also the threat of cold for those with no shelter or money for food. At that time of year – at any time – it’s important to remember those who seek refuge, who have no stable home or sustenance. There’s an unkindness in the damp, the chill of night air and the ice. Is it any wonder we seek the warmth of a cosy fire?

This summer seems to have been a long, hot, glorious one, with lots of travelling and lively parties and fabulous fun with special people. I count myself blessed. And as September arrives, maybe you’ll be either looking forward to autumn or dreading it: school starts again, the new term, new hopes and fears for students and parents. Teachers too, I’m sure. People’s lives will be moving on; new opportunities, threats, dreams.

Mince Pies and Murder, the last of the Seal Bay series, has just come out, and I’m delighted how much people love Morwenna Mutton. I’m sending off a new Elena Collins novel to my publisher soon, an exciting dual timeline that will be out at the beginning of March 26. I’ve loved writing and researching it. And in December, Golden Girls on the Run is published, which features two lovely women and a stolen Ferrari. I can’t wait for you to read it.

And I’m just starting to write a new crime series. I’ve already written the prologue and it made me shiver, so things are going well so far.

This year has been a lovely one for me in so many ways, winning an RNA award, selling a million books, and enjoying good times with family and friends. But there have been setbacks too; people I know and love have been ill, stressed, troubled.

And so, as we turn the corner into the cooler months, may I take this chance to send you love and very best wishes for a healthy, happy and glorious autumn and winter.

Good people make the world go round. And I’m so glad you’re my people. x