Awoke to the sound of wind and rain, elements lashing the bedroom window, wheels splashing in the road. Cats cowering in the kitchen, unwilling to risk the perils that lie beyond the flap. Short walk to the newsagents, streets unusually deserted even for a Sunday morning, fallen leaves swirling round my feet and tumbling, twisting in eddies and vortices between parked cars. Sounds and smells of frying mingle with the rattling of the backyard gate and the fresh odour of wet ivy. This is autumn, and never has a full English tasted so good.