The wind is licking against the windows this evening. There are strong slaps of air and there's that chirring sound of leaves rustling on trees. Sounds of a perfect autumn evening. For me that is.

I know too well that autumn warms the hearts of less people than it's cheerier cousins, spring or summer.

Winter save for deep-dyed Capricorn goats like me and ski-nuts is less loved than reviled: the orphan season, billy no mates, the lonely kid walking home to an empty cold house.

But I love it, I relish winter; inhaling sharp, flinty air on long walks; the strong, clear outlines of leafless trees against menthol blue skies; snow, crisp layers of snow dropped over night. Can't beat any of it. Why resist.