Autumn calling.

 Autumn calling.

You can feel it in your water, sense its presence and know it's in there somewhere. Autumn is calling rather like a summons from some unidentifiable source, a premonition of dramatic changes in the climate and the beginning of shorter days. Summer is fading away albeit gradually and that may sound like a fond farewell but of course there's an element of truth because we can sense a transitional period whereby the heavenly heat of summer begins to cool down and, before you know it, the kids are back at school.

The Jewish holidays of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kipper, Succot and Simchat Torah will be beckoning us together for another gathering of the great and good. We will pray for a healthy and happy New Year and we'll all be together under the same roof of religious harmony, communal bliss and family bonhomie. It'll be time for just sharing good humoured laughter, corny jokes that always brought a smile to our faces and general satisfaction with our place in the greater scheme of things. 

At the moment of course, the latest political developments would suggest that we could be on the brink of a dramatic and heart warming breakthrough. In the land of NATO, the countries of the world are inching towards common ground, quite possibly peace and reconciliation but there can be no way of telling. The mysterious goings on in the highest circles of diplomacy remain a well kept secret but promising. By now you'd have thought they'd reached a unanimous, bilateral agreement but not quite yet. 

In the USA, a man who continues to defy belief, classification and categorisation, just grins on cue when a TV camera falls on his face and then starts blustering, jabbering away in short, sharp sentences at times unintelligibly and incoherently before lapsing into traditional soundbites. His name is Donald Trump and, according to some, it's nonsensical rhetoric. But, hold on! We are now underestimating the power and influence he still manages to exert.

But Donald Trump, president of the United States of America, is still in charge. He is at the heart of everything, a central figure, that reassuring voice, calm and collected, tactful as always and never shrinking from the most exacting of challenges. Trump is not a control freak, merely somebody convinced that he will win the Nobel Prize For Peace one day and everybody will thank him, that world domination will be his. Or maybe not to all of the above.

The truth is though that Trump maybe whistling in the wind. The sight of a once recklessly ambitious businessman trying desperately to hold the world together, was almost unsightly at times. Trump's horrific confrontation with Ukranian president Zelensky is now well documented. Not only did they have the most combustible of public arguments with each other but there was never any hope at all that world peace was ever on each other's agenda. 

So, for the moment at least, things appear at a complete stalemate. Putin wants his slice of the political cake with his very own specific demands and this whole fiasco smacks of ultimatums and emotional blackmail. Putin looks so snug and self assured that you wonder if he's taken any acting lessons recently. Zelensky, for the first time, had the friendliest of conversations with Trump. The cynics would have insisted there were grudging smiles between them and there is still an icy undercurrent between them. Perhaps they will just make up and  get on with the business of being good mates.

In the background there's British Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer who, as a human rights lawyer, must be familiar with the legal ramifications of long term wars between nations and the morality issues that lie behind this terrible conflict. Starmer looks as though he probably needs a good holiday on one of the Greek islands with his family. Once again everything is categorically, his fault. The economy is in tatters, the cost of living crisis is deepening and worsening by the hour and those Labour busybodies are doing next to nothing to help anybody. If Starmer thinks he'll emerge from this Ukraine- Russia bloodbath with any credit, he may have to think again. Nobody wins any war under any circumstances.

Meanwhile back in Britain, the seasons are changing slowly but surely. Shortly we'll all be huddling together in our warm homes, crackling log fires soothing the soul, hot soups ready to be sipped  comfortingly and a thousand pubs will be seething with activity. Those gaming machines will be flickering away colourfully, snooker tables jammed solid with experienced punters and the bars will be ratcheting up a healthy profit from the huge variety of lagers, ciders and wines always available to thirsty drinkers who have probably been going to the same pub for ages. 

Now of course a majority of pubs have become restaurants, carveries, eating and drinking venues. There are curry and steak nights, the eternally popular pub quizzes, karaoke evenings and live rock bands who love to make their guitars and keyboards heard in some distant village miles away. And then in a small corner an important game of dominoes will be heard tapping away and maybe a vital game of shove hapenny will also take pride of place.

And before chucking out time in the said pub, groups of men will be playing darts and of course women. Now darts has always occupied a neat place in the affections of many a pub landlord and lady since the game is so well established that it was hard to remember a time when it wasn't there. The throwing of arrows at a heavily pockmarked darts board is now a nightly occurrence in most pubs across the land. Suddenly, the tension will be broken with the famous cry of 180 which is greeted with raucous cheers by a jubilant crowd propping up the bar.

Yesterday though all of the world's great leaders came together and tried to knock heads together, determined to bring this deplorable and disgraceful conflict to an end. Trump, given half the chance, would stop the fighting and killing at source and now rather than next week or month. But then President Putin of Russia just stood there smiling like the kid who'd just bought a packet of lemon sherbets and liquorice allsorts and got exactly what he wanted because mum had been so lovely and kind.

Putin, of course was plugged into his headphones because although his command of the English language is probably impeccable, he still felt at ease with everyday Russian. Putin just wants everything his own way, a smug and, quite possibly arrogant man who believes quite clearly that Russia should have everything that belongs to the country by right, history and heritage. But then again there have been the usual discussions, intense negotiations and the eternal quest for compromise if things go wrong.

To the outside world there is still a sense that we're not quite there yet, that we're just labouring, plodding, hesitating and avoiding the main objective. The world of politics is so confused, fragmented and divided that you can only assume that eventually it'll all fall into place one day. Somebody will listen to the voice of reason and common sense, clarity and compassion. Someday will say that enough is enough and that'll be it, the line under the sand, no more death, pain and suffering, communities rallying together, mutual love and understanding the predominant emotion.

But, shortly, the rustling leaves on trees will flutter away, dropping onto the grass before turning the most becoming shade of yellow and brown while conkers will be cracked at school. Liverpool, Arsenal, Manchester City, Aston Villa and Newcastle United will be battling away for the right to lift the Premier League trophy next May. And then the England men's football team will hopefully be heading towards their promised land in next years World Cup hosted by the USA, Mexico and Canada and life will be precious and cherishable. We love life and wouldn't have it any other way.