Today's rain is the heavy, grey-skied daytime stuff of autumn, not the thunderous summer evening downpours we've been enjoying up until now.
House Martins gathering over the city, and heading southwards along the river, building in traffic jams below the bridges as they contemplate the next step south, over the Alps.
The trees are starting to change, Horse Chestnuts leading the way, helped into the brown by the leaf miners, but with Limes and Willows not far behind, starting to be misted with yellow.
On the pavement, a dead young Pied Flycatcher, dashed against the mirrored windows of the high rise offices, his first journey south halted here. And a big female Great Green Bush-cricket, exhausted by the summer, slowly being chewed up by a wasp.
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