Why I can’t wait for the clocks to go back this weekend

This weekend marks the start of winter when the clocks go back an hour on Sunday. It’s a cue for moping, miserable faces and moaning about dark evenings and short days. Covid-19 has meant life has been been challenging enough over the past months so let’s not beat ourselves up about the changing seasons.

Why not adopt a more positive attitude and declare it’s less than eight weeks until the days start getting longer on 21 December? I’ve just spent a few days walking in Yorkshire, in unseasonably warm weather. The countryside was drenched in colour, the woods were starting turn gold, and fungi were popping up through the moss underfoot.

My trip included a visit to Robin Hood’s Bay, where I completed the Wainwright’s coast to coast walk in August 1989. My (then) partner and I had walked more than a hundred miles through fog, torrential rain, floods, and high winds. My diary of the journey is soaked with rain and bird poo from aggressive seagulls. It was a feat of endurance.

By the time we reached our goal and the east coast the weather had changed yet again – with temperatures into the mid-20s. I stripped off and ran into the sea to celebrate beating the elements. This time around, the waves were 10ft high and crashing against the sea wall.

That journey taught me never to complain about the British weather, just go with the flow and celebrate it.

I can’t wait for the first autumn frosts.