I’ve always loved autumn. Even though this is the season I’m most allergic to and I’m sure I’ll be coughing in a few weeks, there’s something about this time of year that makes it special. I went on a walk this evening, then came out to my balcony to enjoy the slightly-chilly-yet-balmy autumn breeze. It’s still barely warm enough in my region that there are mosquitoes, so I lit my citronella candle. It lends a rather nice ambience. I also brought my journal along in case I felt like writing.
Something about the cooler weather has always inspired my creativity. I tend to get really enthusiastic about writing my fiction pieces around this time of year, and I’m not sure why that is. No doubt the mood will strike soon, and I’ll dig out the story I work on every year, and write in a frenzy until I get bored with it again.
I’m not a ‘real’ writer. I’m more of a ‘Sunday writer,’ like some people are ‘Sunday painters.’ I love to read, though, and I might actually finish writing one of my own stories someday. (The key to writing is simply… to write.) But one who writes for pleasure.
Something about autumn just drives me. I re-read favorite books, I go on long walks, I gaze at the beautiful leaves, and I drink a lot of tea. It’s a tradition, a ritual… and yet, somehow, it’s always new.
Here are some books I’ll be enjoying this fall.
1. Sunshine by Robin McKinley
2. The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
3. The Silver Kiss by Annette Curtis Clause
4. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
What is your favorite season?