Magical early misty morning

Up over Hampstead Heath to the allotment by 6.30am, Saturday. Aware of the fading opportunities to do this much more this year. The mist licking at the trees, the leaves turning to rust, the air clean and clear. There is something magical about dawn and dusk, the window to another time (world?). Mist sometimes, too, has a similar feel. Love being at the allotment alone as the day begins (for me, if not the fox who is meandering around as the younger magpies scream). The first sunrays alight on the last sunflower. A fat conker comes crashing down. I cut bullsblood and chard for weekend suppers, pick some autumn salads for lunch and head home with cinnamon buns for breakfast before my wife wakes up. Howard's back today so should soon have clarity on our winter plans, but how about you all, hope your gardening's good?