So it has been my, gulp, 46th Birthday today, although I don't remotely feel that old either physically or mentally.
It's actually been a pleasant day at work, with kind gifts of rum, cake and chocolate, muchly appreciated too. I didn't even stuff myself too much, and most folk near my desk had a slice of chocolate caterpillar. Or "human centipede" as I referred to it.
If you don't get that reference, don't look it up.
The sugar factory, the town's Gotham City type most prominent landmark, is back on campaign, and the unmistakable earthy smell pervades the town again when autumnal winds blow from the north-west. When I'm out running or cycling in the countryside, the roads will be lined with the lumpy brown things, as Blackadder described the potato way back when.
I always find it odd that these most gnarly of roots end up keeping my cups of tea sweet.
The factory looked stunning, against the stunning sunset.
All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 09.10.18