High pressure is dominating the weather and the near-drought continues. There is no mud on any of the walks, which once would have been unheard of for mid-October. For the past week it’s felt as if summer’s lease has no intention of expiring anytime soon. Amid mild temperatures and cerulean skies we enjoy the spectacles of the season as the greens of September become more mottled and varied as they meld into the yellows, oranges and reds of November. Rosehips, elderberry and sloes decorate the hedgerows and fungi mystically appear in woodland and grassy fringes. I’m not one for foraging; I much prefer to look and leave well alone (apart from blackberries).

Birdlife still seems somnambulant: I’ve been hoping for migrations but in this still weather nothing much seems to stir. A week ago, in the wake of Storm Amy, hundreds of house martins passed overhead heading east with the wind, as a full moon rose in a purple sky. But this was in Lower Sydenham not on the Kent walks. My only notable sightings have been a kingfisher on River Eden on the Chiddingstone walk; red kites over Lullingstone and Downe; grey plover and lapwings on the ever-expanding shoreline at Bough Beech reservoir (I’ve never seen the water so low); and buzzards at Polhill.

My walk at Fackenden Down today (pictured) was serene, colourful and wonderfully warm. But this isn’t autumn, surely. Lovely though it was, I would quite like to feel a fresher breeze, walk with the threat of a squall, squish through a puddle and ponder whether to wear wellies or trainers. That time will come I guess, I’ll enjoy summer’s lease while it lasts.