Autumn of this life?

Autumn is upon us here in the seaside village of Kommetjie. The air drifting in from the Atlantic has a distinct nip, yet the sun is still warm enough to allow summer clothes. The freshness is so welcome after the long, dry summer, when the sun beat down on threadbare lawns, burning and withering what little greenery remained, and heating the paving beyond barefoot comfort. Now even a few millimetres of rain make a difference, and trees and shrubs that seemed doomed have new shoots, as a reminder to us not to dig them out just yet.
The birds are stocking up on the last food of summer, and they are jostling and squabbling over the pomegranate arils that I split up for them, having finished the last of the grapes. Truly a feast for them in a garden that ordinarily only provides coprosma berries! That tree is fast becoming a casualty of the drought despite my having watered it every single day, and perhaps it is just old age that it has succumbed to, but as a replacement for the fruit eaters, I have been putting out all the fruit that the family doesn't eat - which is everything. We are not fruit eaters, and lemons and apples have finally been established as the only fruits they eat, and then only in a hot pudding!
Today I stood quietly under the trees, just observing the birds coming and going, and thought how sad it was that Dad was no longer here to chat to about his favourite hobby, birding. It is only recently that I began to take an interest, particularly in photographing birds, while both these hobbies occupied about 70 years of his long life. I'm sure he is thrilled that I am following in his footsteps at last, but there are still so many questions I would like to ask him.
Yes, autumn indeed.