I know when my Annabelle hydrangea turn from their cloud white to an uplifting shade of spring green that Fall is just around the corner. A cruel trick on their part. My heart sinks with dread as I realize daylight will be scant, sunshine rare and temperatures crisp. I don't mind the cooler temperature but I thrive on sun. Come mid-December my body will crave its warmth, my mind will seek inspiration in other places. Music, good books and my writing will provide sustinance for my soul.
It is a good thing, Fall. I keep telling myself that my schedules relaxes, gardens renew and thoughts turn inward. Fall is the perfect time to fire up those creative embers and get things cooking. What's not to welcome! Thank goodness for the season's songs of color that celebrate Summer's last chance to inspire.
The fourth draft of my novel is almost complete. By the end of October I hope to let it rest so that when I pick it up again in December I will have a fresh perspective with which to give it a polished finish. Exciting really!
I just finished a post that British author Eliza Graham wrote in 'Debutante Ball' where she says the turning point in a novel is "when the progatonists realize they can never, ever return to being the person they were at the start of their story." Something in that rang true with me.
Of course, every day we are a different person and therefore can't return to who we were the day before. And once Summer has passed it is fruitless to mourn for it.
So, Fall, I am here for you as I know you are here for me. I'll pick those spring green hydrangea before they brown, vase them on my writing desk and we'll both make the best of it.