Steps In Between

My journey as a writer.

Finding Time On The Last Warm Day

Now that it’s mid-October, I am finally falling into the idea of autumn. I said my farewells to summer. It took a while this year, as I clung to warm weather and sunshine and time… just time. There’s something about summer that makes me smile inside, that slows my pace, that turns a trip to the store into an excursion where inspiration hides around spectacles of produce. I feel so relaxed in the summer, I can find whimsy to write as I wait through red lights in traffic.

But, fall. Fall gets a little tricky. The weather chills. The clouds turn gray. The stores start displaying Halloween and Thanksgiving hullabaloo, though I love Halloween and Thanksgiving. It’s just that they trigger a sense of urgency in my steps. Daylight Savings looms, the gate closing to anything extra I can squeeze into my day. No more slow trips to the store, or taking leisurely walks to the mailbox. No more pausing to admire the bunnies in the grass, or my neighbor’s lemon tree growing surprisingly strong in the pacific northwest. For some reason, a darkened sky in the chilly fall means stay home, hunker down, get to bed. And of course when they come, I mourn the sunny days of October, because I know they slip away into hibernation. The question always on my mind… could this be the last warm day until spring? Could this be the last blue sky?

Though, somewhere in my anticipation of losing that beautiful gift of time, my gaze falls on a pool of golden leaves, loose and floating below the tree in my yard. They’re like Summer’s dress striped down to her ankles, as she steps out, eager for a long nap. I look up to find her indigo-sky wrap fall around her shoulders, as comforting as the blaze I started in my fireplace this evening. Suddenly the pale colors of summer contrast against the speckled fawn of the deciduous sea I now find myself, and I take notice. Colors sharp, images set. My lackadaisical summer may have passed, but the crispness of this new season has its own stirring. And with every crimson and amber leaf dancing on the edge of its life cycle, I now feel renewed.

With the same time, I recently felt stolen away, I slip under a warm blanket, with a mug of hot cider, and hide away behind the pages of a good book… because somewhere out of the beautiful (and possibly final) blue October sky, I found time.

Categories: Thoughts on writing...

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