Summer this year had been brilliant, but my girl had started her whining at the beginning of august- “This is so boring now. I’m so ready for autumn.”

Like what? It’s feckin’ Ireland. It’s almost permanently autumn. Spring is basically autumn without the leaves and pumpkins. She insists they’re different. Spring in Ballylaggin is a rip off of normal autumn. Whatever the hell that means.

So on the first weekend of September; when what was left of the sun was gone, she knocks on my door. I rub my eyes, having just got dressed at 12 o clock. Mam wasn’t happy so called her to come over: blackmail at its finest.

“Happy autumn!” Is called the moment the door starts to open, barely.

I open the door and spot her grin first, two beautiful dimples coupled with them. Then the brown leather jacket that was mine, then her cream sweater, her jeans and her uggs and a scarf. This bloody woman.

“It’s still summer.” I groan, but grin at her as she steps forward. I slip my hands beneath the leather jacket hugging her close to me as I kiss her forehead.

She looked gorgeous. Even if in my head I was still mourning the loss of the scarce summer sun we had. “You’re an overexcited eejit, hm?” I kiss her lips softly, “A pretty one though.”

“Go get your jacket on, and let’s go kickin’ the leaves.” Her eyes sparkle, the way I imagine mine do in summer. She thrives in the winter months.

I kiss her cheek, speaking against it as I pull her inside. “Technically, autumn doesn’t start until the 11th,” I glance at my watch. “And it’s only the 6th.”

“Nice try baby.” She says softly, stealing a final smooch before parading to the kitchen to where my Mam and Claire were standing. Claire was also excited for autumn, blonde curls braided and Gibs has an arm around her shoulders.

Mam is hugging my girl as come in, shrugging my jumper on, holding my jacket. “C’mon trouble. You coming?” I ask. I kiss my Ma’s cheek, and slip my hand into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’ll be back later, Mam.”

“Alright you two. You staying for dinner, lovely?” She looks directly at my girl, who nods and smiles sweetly. “Please, thank you.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re always welcome love.”

After a few more minutes of discussion while I toe on my boots we get going. Her hand in mine, as she hums the melody to some slow song, walking down the damp street, maroon and burnt orange leaves clumping beneath my boots and her uggs as she nattered my ear off.

Maybe autumn wasn’t so bad after all.