The title of this post comes from Anderson/Weill's September Song - a beautiful song with wonderful poetic lyrics and which ironically has nothing to do with the season. I just like that particular line and associate it with an idealised autumn.

This is my favorite time of year as I enjoy watching the leaves change colour and slowly, softly slip towards the ground. I love the way the sunshine has a softer, more golden hue and I love the smell of autumn air. It's mid-October and by now in Sweden we should be well into autumn weather, but it is still quite warm and dry. I'm sure when I mention autumn weather I'm conjuring up for many of you images of crisp air, golden sun, deep blue skies, leaves turning red etc. Unfortunately that's not an apt description of a Swedish autumn. Yes, we do get some days that gloriously conform to this dreamlike, perfect autumn picture. However much of autumn here is filled with mist, grey skies, dreary half light, chilly breezes and drizzly rain...the sort of rain that makes you want to scream at the skies "Either rain properly or quit it!".

But we are blessed with warmth and sunshine this year which is perfect as we make our way out to our favourite little bay for some respite from the demands of everyday life.




I still want to live on this island (Krokskär) and each time we pass, that longing gets stronger. People point out that it is very quiet and possibly quite isolated out here but I don't mind that as I find that I am quite content with my own company and what I look for in a home is an oasis that is quiet and beautiful where I can take refuge from the world's noise, storms and ugliness and sit back feeling peace and contentment. It may sound dull to other people but it doesn't to me.

When we pulled into the bay, we were surprised to see that the two buoys that we tie up to were missing. A quick scan of the beach line showed us that they were lying by the rocks.




This puzzled us. Was it sabotage or had they been moved deliberately? A call to the cruising club gave us the answer - they are taken up at the end of every season as the ice can damage them, which was something we didn't know. We will have to be content to lie by anchor from now till next spring as we are one of the few boats still out on the water.




Behind us, the trees on the shore are showing the first signs of golden autumn. The colours are not as intense this year and after reading that it is the cold that triggers the leaves to begin the autumn process of change I'm not so surprised. With such warmth around, it is a very slow, gradual process and I can't believe that the foilage is showing no signs of falling yet.

I had a good friend in Adelaide who was originally from Canada. One Christmas as we were enjoying drinks on her patio in the warm summer evening, I asked her if she missed the snow. She said that what she really missed was the brilliant coloured autums in her homeland. "But we have autumn here" I protested. The weather is cooler, it's a bit darker and it rains. Of course we don't have the range of deciduous trees that seem to be the norm in the northern hemisphere, but I still thought of it as a distinct season. It wasn't until I moved up here that I discovered a stunning, full blown display of colour and I realised that she was right - it wasn't the same thing and I know that it is something that I'd miss if I moved away.




In front of us we can look across the waters and see the silhouette of the lighthouse at Landsort in the distance and in the other direction is the open waters of the Baltic. You can see that one must think carefully about where to anchor. The wind is coming from the shore, so we have the protection of the island and the trees. If the wind was to turn and sweep in from the direction of the sea, it would become very uncomfortable in this bay, with waves making us feel as though we were inside a washing machine.




We stayed here for a couple of days and took a leisurely sail back on Sunday afternoon as we were only two and a half hours from Nynäshamn. It was a cloudy day when we set off but as it was a working day on Monday, we pressed on and the weather broke and we saw the first glimpse of sunshine for the day as Nynäshamn came into view. It's uncanny how this always happens as we approach home. We often joke that the sun always shines there and more often than not, we are right.

Anyway, we have wind and it's great to do real, fast sailing again. What fun! Except that I am feeling slightly "blah" and pre-menstral. Some times of the month it really sucks to be a woman. Have you ever tried to change a tampon when the boat is pounding along at 6.5 knots and heeling towards port at 25 degrees in a tight toilet space being tossed around against the walls? It ain't fun.....




But I digress. Apart from "the secret women's business" end of things, we have a wonderful sail. Yes it is blowing steadily, but we are very well dressed in warm clothes and off-shore wet weather gear, so it's fine. I went below for a while thinking that it may be better for Lambi, but the perverse dog prefers to be out in the weather! Though enclosed in her basket with a water and windproof jacket draped over it, it's not a real hardship if you think about it.




It was busy back at the club with people busy taking off their masts, packing away the sails and cleaning out the boats ready for them to be raised tomorrow. This boat is an elegant wooden archipelago cruiser dating from the early 1900s and still going strong. I only hope I'll be looking as good as she does at the same age.

Now where's that gin and tonic?