Slow

Though the summer lasted well into October - an aberration this far north - fall has finally, and suddenly arrived. When I wake what's left of the dry grass sparkles with light frost. The wind has a bite to it.
And the dark has come.

No longer do I wake to the sun, but instead must force myself out of warm blankets and into the day. My body wants to remain curled, conserving energy, instinctively wanting to protect itself against the oncoming winter.

While Minnesota winters usually last long enough to make one's bones ache, I still enjoy the shifting seasons. My body's reactions to cooling temperatures and brief daylight reminds me that I'm connected to the earth and its cycles.

As Samhain (Halloween) approaches it reminds me to prepare for the dark and the cold. To contemplate and act with measure.

Last Sunday I planted bulbs that in the spring, I hope, will offer beautiful blossoms. Even as winter approaches, the hope of spring and returning warmth remain present.
Wishing you a blessed autumn.

A Quality of Light

I anticipate this time of the year like no other, and it's not just because we're now within a month of Nightshade's release date. It feels not unlike fate that my debut novel will be published at the heart of autumn, my favorite season and the one in which I feel the most myself.

I couldn't imagine living in a part of the world where the seasons didn't change. There's an energy to the shift that never fails to fill me with wonder. One of my favorite characteristics of autumn is the way light changes.

Spring's light sparkles, like dew on newly sprouted leaves. It's full of promise and makes me giddy. Summer's light is pure power - it warms you up and exhausts you at the same time. But autumn's light is subtle. It slides through leaves, rolling over them, seeming to almost paint them with the waning sun's very shades of gold and rust. It gleams and lingers. Walking in my neighborhood, surrounded by autumn's glow I experience profound contentment. I hardly know how to describe it, only that it makes me feel a rightness with the world unlike any other.

Today is Mabon, the autumnal equinox. The light will slip slowly into darkness from now until the Winter Solstice, reminding us of life's mysteries and the hidden workings of the spirit world. May the magic of this season bring you wisdom and joy.

Where I Live is Nice Sometimes

My lament over winter's early appearance has been quelled by autumn's glorious comeback.

For the last few days I've walking my neighborhood, drinking in as much of the golden season as I can, knowing it will soon be over.

I love the stark passing of life into death I see everywhere.

The change in our lives like a swing abandoned for the beckoning school bell.

And apples grow so heavy they drop from trees.It is a season full of mystery.

Here is mine for today: Who leaves their key in the forest?

I sense a story brewing...

Octobrrrr

We lost fall. I don't know how it happened.

After the warmest September on record, October arrived in a cloak of winter. Temperatures dropped 30 degrees overnight and this morning:
The first time it happened was Saturday, but I'd hoped it had been a fluke. But today there's no deluding myself. Winter is here.
Minnesota has a reputation for being a frozen wasteland 11 months out of the year, but that's a lie. It's only a frozen wasteland in January and February (okay and sometimes March). Most of the year we have glorious weather.

And autumn is the best of all. But this year we're missing it and it's breaking my heart. Leaves blanketed in snow are still green. I haven't walked along the Mississippi to gaze at sun-dappled reds, golds, and bronzes reflected in the river's surface.If you need me, I'll be sulking.

Mabon

It's a day to stop and think about shifting cycles and time - Mabon, the autumn equinox. Today light and dark are in perfect balance, but tomorrow our descent into the long night of winter begins.

Autumn is my favorite season, but it's a challenging and volatile time of year. The quickening of day into night puts life into a frenzied pace, culminating that chaos that is the holiday season - which are never relaxing or restorative in the way it seems they should be.

As much as I know time will seem to speed up, carried by an unseen current that drives summer away, I still love this moment. It's the only time when I can in a space of minutes see the abundance of morning glories that still sing of languid summer and promise its return...


but feel twinges of anticipation at the discovery of pumpkinlings that whisper of harvest's bounty, bonfires, and the comfort of the hearth on chilly winter nights.
Today summer and autumn hold hands and dance, giving the world at chance to witness them in harmony before summer's fades away, still full of light and laughter, while autumn takes our hand to lead us along its darkening forest paths.