Concrete Pencil: A grey day

A points failure under grey clouds had delayed my overland but by the time the DLR emerged from the tunnel at Shadwell my coatless self saw rain drops streamed by velocity across the window.

In the time of year in which banks tend to fail, it pays to be better protected than I was, on that train, against inclement weather.

Yellow falling leaves were in the air as I walked to the station, but there was no sign of the rain that would later fall and trap me without a coat far from home.

Cold on a wet train near Shadwell with only a shirt to protect me, I feared I would be shivering all day.

I left home without a thought for warmth or dryness, my flat being free from draught and damp, but within an hour the rain on the DLR had showed me I left myself vulnerable to the elements for the day ahead.

"I saw that big bloke who writes that column in The Wharf on the train - he's grown a beard and he didn't have a coat despite the fact it was tipping it down."

The warmth from last night's mango and banana crumble was fading from my mouth and belly as the wind and later the rain of autumn stripped away the last memories of the sunned joys of summer.

Saturday had seen a fine warm afternoon, but just a couple of days later the season seemed to have changed completely as a windy autumn morning turned greyly to rain.

When I got to the office fleecy North Faces as thick as sleeping bags sat on the backs of chairs - we need a coatstand - but all I'd put on in my curtain-dark bedroom was a TM Lewin bargain shirt and a plain white T from TK Maxx.

Sitting on the train coatless staring at the rain on the window, the same thoughts went through my head again and again concerning my unpreparedness for seasonally typical weather.

The autumn focus of my season-critical mobile wardrobe strategy was south of the desired level of success.

Bonfires and crumbles and conkers come with the possibility of rain.

In other words: autumn's here. Pack a coat.