I have not spent an autumn in Finland for 16 years, but in my memories Finnish autumn is full of colour. Maples blazing and birches dripping gold. The Finnish word for this phenomenon is ruska. Belgian autumns never seem as brightly coloured, and since it is mainly a northern phenomenon it makes sense. But it might also be a case of my memories colouring my childhood brighter than it really was. 

But even a less spectacular autumn has its own beauty. The smell of decomposing leaves and wet earth. Leaves swirling through the air as they leave their branches to settle in a thick layer on the ground.  The rustle of that leaf carpet underfoot.

These pictures were taken last weekend while walking Loki in the park. It was quite misty and soon grew so dark that we had to light a torch to find our way through he unlit woods.