Word Count: 227 Reading time: 2 mins
Autumn is dragging its wild cloak across the landscape and every day the scenery changes. Rain-drenched soil sweetens the air with rich composting fragrance. Our neighbour’s chestnut tree sheds a few more leaves and opens the view of the city just a little wider. The streetlights flicker on earlier each evening.
The closing season is on us and the earth is preparing to sleep. Do you dread fall as a harbinger of winter? Does it fill you with anxiety about the approaching cold and the long dark nights?
For me, George Eliot said it best:
“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”
I love the smell, the light, the gentle chill in the air. And I love what it signifies metaphorically to writing. When the last breath of life seems sucked out of a piece I can bury it for a while and wait to see what rises from the humus.
Do you rest your work? Is there an autumn or fall in your creative process? When you take it out again and turn the soil, has life regenerated?
Thanks to writing coach Daphne Gray-Grant for the helpful technique of prefacing posts with word count and reading time.