It's still summer in October.

It's still summer in October.


Yes folks it's back by popular demand and looking better than ever. Summer is indeed back and it's hard to believe that here we at the beginning of October and the good people of North London and Manor House are still walking around the streets with T-shirts on, beach shirts, flip flops and basking in the surreally warm heat of early autumn. There's something there that doesn't seem to be quite right and yet how excessively grateful we are for this most completely unexpected of returns.

It did look as though the last few weeks or so were more or less the accepted norm for this time of the year as Britain woke to angry skies, grey, murky mists and dark, incensed clouds that were gathering together their battalions for a full frontal attack of heavy rain and blustery winds. But this was quite literally a false dawn because today most of Britain woke up this morning and was convinced that the Mediterranean had made a welcome re-appearance. We hadn't prepared for this and there were never any indications that blue skies, warm sunshine and July had popped in for a flying visit.

Still here we on this most gorgeous October day, wondering if this may be too good to last. Besides, this could be a forerunner for gale force winds, monsoons, even thick blankets of snow within the next week or so. But rest assured it's here at the moment and let us just take everything in, absorb the sheer perfection of it all, dismissing from our minds immediately that it won't last and by the end of the week we'll all be shivering with cold and freezing in which case that was merely some temporary lull before the storm.

Here in Manor House the fresh, brand new regeneration of the whole area is well and truly underway. Everywhere you look there are those towering, magisterial looking cranes soaring over our homely home from home like a giant set of Lego or Meccano. Truly, these cranes and JCBs are quite the tallest and most intimidating sight you're ever likely to see in suburban London. They hover in the air with red winking lights that go on at night just to remind you that they're still there.

But the fact is that, as my wife rightly points out, this is the biggest building site in Europe. You wouldn't believe the monumental scale of these ludicrously expensive flats and apartments, the vast immensity of it all, the monstrous cement mixers whirling, grinding, moaning and moping, forever making the most extraordinary noise. It is the sound of modern British industrialism, groaning and heavy machinery, things that go beep and sound like a constant sequence of fire drill alarms.

Most of the brand new blocks of flats behind us have now been built but behind one of our garden walls it looks as if a new city is in the process of being developed. A huge set of massive foundation stones, thick girders the size of London itself and all manner of building equipment is beginning to block out all natural light.

For as far as the eye can see there is evolution, progress and futuristic architecture that looks and feels as if the 21st century has arrived with fanfares, bells and whistles. Gone are the old blocks of flats and now in its place are the fresh, luxuriously furnished and spectacular homes with smart looking balconies and quite the most astonishing views over the beautiful Woodberry Wetlands.

That's it Woodberry Wetlands. Who knew that such a place existed years ago. But this is the Woodberry Wetlands opened up recently by the legendary Sir David Attenborough. Woodberry Wetlands is an explosion of nature at her prettiest and most natural. In fact Manor House is beginning to look irresistibly picturesque so much so that you'd be forgiven for thinking that you were indeed in the country and John Constable was still alive.

The Wetlands is now the place to go for every imaginable gathering of birds, every conceivable colour and every variety of our avian friends. There are doubtless great crested grebes, kingfishers proudly surveying their stretch of water nobly, Canadian geese strutting around imperiously as if they owned Manor House, magpies, finches tightly tucked away behind bushes and anything with feathers and a beak.

There are butterfly catching parties who stop in awed admiration, the Coal House cafe, ducks perched delicately on small islands in the middle of the water and nothing but the most idyllic silence when all is still calm and at peace with the world. People stroll around in their small knots all the while gazing into the far distance, their faces totally enraptured by the teeming wildlife. Then they stop for a while fascinated, engrossed by the spectacle around them, standing for a while and then pointing out the names of the birds to eager, receptive children.

So there you have it everybody. Summer is back in North London, healthier, fitter and stronger than ever before. October is still pinching itself because it just can't take it all in. It almost seems as if it was determined to surprise us without us noticing, catching us out suddenly and maybe deluding us into thinking that these warm, sultry days are here to stay until Christmas Day.

Perhaps it should have given us prior warning or made some grand announcement, a pleasant surprise that none of us could have expected. Sadly though you suspect that winter may be hiding covertly behind some chaotic hawthorn bush away from the hustle and bustle of the City and ready to pounce on us while we aren't watching. Still, it's time we poured ourselves a refreshing Pimms, dug out the industrial fan, opened the living room doors and then thought of sun dappled seaside resorts with their ravenous gulls.

These early October days have to be savoured and relished because you never know what might be around the corner. In a couple of weeks time the clocks will go back and a huge enveloping blanket of darkness will descend on us emphatically. Before you know it, 3.30 in the afternoon will seem like midnight, the central heating will be switched on with a decisive switch and we'll all be harking back to those bronzed, silvery and golden days when the sun shone with a handsome authority and longevity.

But for now at least we can at least kid ourselves that summer will never desert us and 2018 witnessed some of the most incredible weather since that joyfully jubilant heatwave of 1976. True this may not be a time for hose pipe bans and an abundance of ice creams but thick coats and pullovers may have to wait a while longer. This is Britain, England, still totally wrapped up in Brexit talk, still occasionally squabbling with itself and unnecessarily running itself down and still being far too modest. October in England hey. Phew what a scorcher!