Good morning, and welcome to autumn - well, by one crude measure of the seasons anyway. It won't be too long before the leaves are turning in earnest and the footpaths are ankle-deep in big, crunchy cornflakes.
It's after that, when they go all soggy, that the threat of winter really starts to hit home.
Thanks for the birthday calls yesterday, including from those of you also born on the glorious 28th. It was interesting to talk about leap-year babies and how we dodged bullets by not being born in those years.
I've had a great day so far (it's now mid-afternoon). Ironically, my first job of the day was sorting out the obituaries page for this Saturday. So if I wasn't feeling lucky to still be alive before I did that, I certainly do now.
I've had a modicum of feedback on who readers think should be the next National Party leader, out of a shortlist of Victor Meldrew or Hilda Ogden. I understand Simon Bridges is just keeping the seat warm while he waits for our official result. I won't spoil it today - I'll let Mr Bridges have a little more time in charge. Please rush your responses to me.
This conversation appears to be morphing more into a ''my meeting with Lord Lichfield'' thread.
''The likely date of Lord Lichfield's visit was early 1984,'' Don says. ''Sorry, the exact date eludes me, but Lord Lichfield was on a New Zealand visit sponsored by the New Zealand Professional Photographers Association and travelled New Zealand and met many photographers.
''From memory he spent some days in Dunedin hosted by our local NZPPA members and was introduced to many local 'photographic' folk, of which John Hughes of Photokina would have been one. John's luncheon date would have been one of many 'informal' gatherings over his stay at various choice spots, including photographers' establishments and homes around Dunedin.
''His visit culminated in a grand, formal dinner gathering to launch a local photographic book, Dunedin - New Zealand's Best Kept Secret, which was a photographic 'shoot' by Dunedin photographers on November 15, 1983, covering 24 hours in the life of Dunedin. I was one of the 20 photographers and I note that [ODT illustrations editor] Stephen Jaquiery was one of four invited photographers on this project.
''My association with John Hughes goes back to where my photographic career started at Photokina as a message boy, working after school scurrying about town. On leaving school I worked in the photo laboratory above the shop for a time and, thanks to John and the experience I gained there, I moved to a photographic career of some 40 years with the University of Otago.''
Another reader and photographer, Ian Bilson of Broad Bay, also remembers Lord Lichfield coming to Dunedin at the invitation of the Otago branch of the association.
''I was visiting fellow photographer Ian McRobie the morning of the launch when the man himself came into view.
''My exclamation, 'Good Lord!', caused some amusement.''
Never mind the weather
Do you remember last week when Janine Race wrote in to tell us the bellbirds around Shiel Hill were perfectly happy in the rain?
Jim Caldwell, who has lived all his life in Oamaru, rang the other day to say he had had plenty of bellbirds and tui visiting before the heavy rain from Cyclone Gita hit last week.
''I did notice, once the rain really started - and we had three inches (75mm) here - that I didn't see the tui but the bellbirds just carried on as normal, living on the sugar and water. I was worried they were going to get pneumonia.''
Can we deduce that tui are more scared of rain than bellbirds?
Still raining
Christine Hall, also of Oamaru, has answered my call for appropriate Kiwi expressions for heavy rain.
''Reading your piece in Friday's paper immediately made me think about a travel diary we came across some years ago, Constance Astley's Trip to New Zealand 1897-1898. Constance was an artist and her companion, Margaret, was a photographer.
''During their time at Te Anau, in February 1898, they took the steamer up to the head of the lake, which turned into quite an adventure.
'' '... & still it rained, yea poured, on our devoted heads ... & we passed close to a beautiful wooded promontory & then we were told we were only 1/2 a mile off the head, & then it rained omnibuses & steamrollers, & blew in little squalls, & it took us at least 20 minutes to do that last 1/2 mile ... .'
''It's still the best description I've heard of Fiordland weather,'' Christine says.
I have to agree. ''Raining omnibuses and steamrollers'' is quite something to contend with. Your average household brolly wouldn't last long.