September. September was all about the food. The bread and the pastry and the plums and the chocolate and brocollo and the cinnamon and the nutmeg and the cardamom. It was about creation that looked like destruction and progress that looked like demolition and discoveries of Edwardian treasures brutalised and covered up and hidden away. It was about peeling back and starting afresh. About lunches by the river and friendships starting over. It was about vintage cashmere and maple syrup. It was about life and living. It was September.