The brief Kiwi autumn is rapidly seguing into the sodden Kiwi winter.
This morning, like yesterday morning, was bright and treacherous. I drove to work in gentle, unwarming sunshine. But by 9:30 a.m., the clouds are lowering like the ceiling of an Inquisition cell.
I think it was Xigent who wisecracked, a month or so back, that since it's always a balmy 22 degrees in Auckland, we didn't really need a house anyway. He'd sing a different tune if he could see it now. It's wet and it's cold and it's all but dark outside, and the odds are it'll stay that way for a good ten weeks at least.