I have lived and loved the London springs for the past fourteen years, always feeling somewhat giddy with the length and the gently unfolding beauty. And the blossoms. Oh, I’ll miss the blossoms. And yet, there are other places that have distinct seasons, such as the fabulous colours, deep blue skies and brisk but not cold temperatures of autumn here. 

Seasons are more subtle in southern England, without the harsh -30 winters of Montreal followed by the soaring temperatures and humidity of summer, with a violent and muddy slice of spring separating the two. Autumns here seem the equivalent of the springs I enjoyed both in London and when I lived in France. They start in early September when the days are still warm but cooler nights stir the sap within the trees. A few rascals start to change the colour of their leaves early, and by the end of the month the many green parks and the mountain of Montreal have become a riot of reds, yellows and oranges. 

Until one day, usually in mid to late October, you suddenly realise the clarity has gone, the colours are more muted, more shades of orange than red. Still stunning, though, still breath-taking; the kind of beauty that fills your heart with gratitude. 

Behind my toaster this morning I found an old blueberry that had escaped from my granola a few days ago. I don’t find small wild blueberries like that in the UK, so I was wondering if I could twist it into a metaphor. Or a euphemism. I could say that I’m looking for blueberries when I really mean that I’m cleaning my apartment, but that’s a little dull. Euphemisms need to be accompanied by a sideways glance or a wink. I’ll work on it, this could be a fun exercise.

Canadian inventions: ski-doos and jetskis, velcro, zippers, insulin, penicillin, zambonis, the telephone, the short-wave radio, robertson screwdrivers (and screws). I wonder how many people know what a zamboni is! I never understood why Robertson screws aren't found worldwide. They’re square, therefore easy to grip with the right screwdriver, and don’t strip as easily as Phillips screws. Maybe that can become a (minor) mission for me!

It has been said that Canadians are simply disarmed Americans with healthcare, but the differences run deeper than that. We don’t need to wave our flags and wear hats branded with maple leaves because we know we’re good. Some people call it quiet superiority, or passive aggression, but at least we’re not loud about it.

Following that trend of thinking, and perhaps showing my Canadian blood, I recently learned that of the top ten countries in the world as far as quality of life, seven are constitutional monarchies: Norway, Netherlands, Sweden, New Zealand, Denmark, Australia and Canada. I realise that the UK is also a constitutional monarchy but I’m afraid it didn’t reach the top ten. And given all the drama going on at the moment - I check the news with a hesitation and a turn of the head, like someone trying not to watch a slowly unfolding car crash - I’m not sure that the quality of life for the average joe is going to improve over the winter. I wish only the best for the UK. I have been proudly British for quite some time, and it’s hard to see it slip in the eyes of the world. It makes me wonder if the Queen simply gave up on trying to have an influence on the morals and values of her Prime Ministers. She couldn’t take any more. 

I miss having Queen Elizabeth around as the head of the country and a dignified figure of service. That moral continuity and those weekly chats would help, I think, in controlling rampant populism. Time will tell.

In the meantime, while the Brits, or at least the Conservative party, vote for yet another leader of the country, I am heading out with a friend for a road trip through eastern Quebec. We’re driving along the south shore of the mighty St. Lawrence river, the plan being that we will hit Gaspé and the Rocher Percé (a sea arch) later this week, a distance of almost 1000 kms. 

I plan to write more about this adventure on my blog as it’s uncharted territory for me. Not only the geography but also a road trip: two women and two dogs, driving into a blaze of autumn colours. Without the Thelma and Louise ending, of course. They didn't have dogs.

Stay tuned.