Seasons...


October. It is seriously fall now. My mother never liked autumn. "Everything is ending," she would say, and I would reply, "but what a glorious ending." Fall was and remains my favorite season.

Perhaps, that is because, for me, fall has been more often a season of promise and beginnings. I met The Main Muse in the fall, and every autumn that comes, I fall in love with her all over again. My four novels were published in the fall. This year, Early Dark, my second short story collection has just gone off to the publisher.

In the fall of 2015, we found the house where we live now, and hopefully will live for the rest of our lives. I plant blueberries in the fall. Salad greens grow best in the fall. I dig my sweet potatoes in the fall. Fall is the best time to take long walks on the mountain. It is hard not to be hopeful and glad and grateful in such a generous season.

Henry's books.

Comments

  1. The stifling heat of summer. The biting cold of winter. These are the things that would point me towards a least favorite season but even these are only for a time. This too shall pass. The early days of summer remind me of my own early summers. The late days of winter in anticipation of the coming Spring...beauty on the fringes. The new life of Spring, the nostalgic peace of Fall...these too, are my favorites.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "...beauty on the fringes." Yes.
      About time for our walk, my friend.

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