My idea of a perfect Sunday morning

My favourite day of the year is when the clocks go back.  Unlike the rest of the universe, I don't want an extra hour in bed.  I want to be out walking before everyone wakes up.  For a while I was anxious that the gates to the square may not have been opened early enough, but they were;  I didn't have to walk all the way down to the river instead.
There was no one out except a jogger, two walkers and a dog, and the cafe opening up.  The fountain was high, the drizzle light, the plane tree leaves pale and gold everywhere.  Car and traffic lights  were like jewels in the damp.
It was bliss. 
For the first time since the horror of summer (the heatwave appears to have scarred me for life), I feel normal.  I feel energetic and hopeful.
And all that waiting I was doing is done.
I got the job.
My daughter has settled in well at university.
Those two short stories are finished.
I'm deep into the notes and pre-writing of my next novel, the second in the Everlast series.
Summer is also done, at last;  well into October, it seemed as if it would never go away and if I don't see it again until next July, I'd be quite happy.  Next summer, I may have to leave the country.  Unless it rains all summer.  Then I'll be out dancing in it instead.
But right now I've got Christmas to look forward, my most favourite time of year.