Living by the Dartby Heather Long Autumn Days
There’s nothing like a fluttering falling leaf or a bronzing tree to get me going all metaphorical. Untangling myself from webs strung across a hill top footpath and wishing I’d put on an extra layer, I realised that autumn had arrived – not just for 2010 but also for life in general maybe.
Such big thoughts come as a bit of a side swipe and thankfully I was close to my favourite seat in the field above Dyers Wood when this thunder bolt hit. The perfect spot to sit, reflect, and feel surging hope.
I’m not an elderly person by any means, although I confess my internal gauge of what counts as middle aged moves onwards with every birthday, but by my reckoning I probably have had the first two life seasons and am heading into a new one.
Spring was clear enough of course. Less a willowy growing sapling more a dumpy pip sprouting in all directions, but childhood was constant new growth and change and experiences, nurtured by experts (thanks Mum and Dad!) and often replanted in different schools and houses around the South West. We were a family on the move and I enjoyed endless changes of scene as a chance to gain friends and confidence.
Summer sunshine came in the form of work successes (and a few storm clouds here too – I fell on my face spectacularly more than once!) but mainly in becoming a parent and the absolute delight of raising three small boys. The sheer enjoyment took me totally by surprise. With new arrivals comes the balance of life in the shape of loss of loved ones too of course. Cloudy days, drizzly and sad, but with small hands to hold and little voices forming new words, smiles were never far away.
So what has changed? Those little children are now taller than me or almost looking me in the eye. They’re taking their first independent steps – no longer toddling across the sitting room but striding into the world (or cycling/skateboarding/scooting!) They’re like the brown speckled young gulls that squeal on the rooftops – circling and soaring but still close to home. I look at them with pride, and realise I don’t have them for much longer.
Also life has a habit of wading in with its own ideas. Plans we thought were ours to keep are whisked away and changed. Paths that led us here alter direction. Summer sunshine has a chill in the air, causing a frown and a shiver. How do we deal with that? How do I feel about the autumn – is it time to hide inside, keep my head down and tell myself it’s too cold to venture out? Not really my style, or that of those around me, although on days, of course, it’s tempting.
The joy is in the detail of the season that makes a bigger beauty, I realise. Up close a leaf might seem brown and dead, but looking across the river to the woods beyond I see a hundred shades of brown from gold to deep chocolate, interspersed with orange and red. It might be chilly but in autumn the sun still shines, and sometimes it beams so hard there is more need for sunglasses than on the hottest summer day!
It’s not so hot and sticky that you can’t see new opportunities and with a clearer head maybe it’s easier to try new things. Experience has taught me that something that hurts will get better – be it a wasp sting, broken leg or the loss of someone dear. You take the experience with you and it helps with the next challenge. Cooling off and reflecting gives you energy – invigorating and enabling.
I’ve been sitting on my favourite bench for too long, distracted by the beauty of boats, sparkling water and playing dragons with my misty breath (do we ever grow out of that I wonder?) Winter seems a long way away and haven’t I always loved the autumn? Apart from the hideous anticlimax of Back To School (which I thankfully no longer have to cope with – sorry kids!) this has always been my favourite time of year. All the anticipation of pumpkin parties, fireworks, frosty mornings and the best of all – Christmas.
If this is autumn then that’s fantastic. I’ve always been happiest in woolly jumper, wellies and anorak. Happy days!
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84 |
Page 85 |
Page 86 |
Page 87 |
Page 88 |
Page 89 |
Page 90 |
Page 91 |
Page 92 |
Page 93 |
Page 94 |
Page 95 |
Page 96 |
Page 97 |
Page 98 |
Page 99 |
Page 100 |
Page 101 |
Page 102 |
Page 103 |
Page 104 |
Page 105 |
Page 106 |
Page 107 |
Page 108 |
Page 109 |
Page 110 |
Page 111 |
Page 112 |
Page 113 |
Page 114 |
Page 115 |
Page 116 |
Page 117 |
Page 118 |
Page 119 |
Page 120 |
Page 121 |
Page 122 |
Page 123 |
Page 124 |
Page 125 |
Page 126