Autumn arrives much later here and when it comes it isn’t quite as brilliant. However I’m growing used to its slow start and learning to appreciate its beauty.
In my early years, I never liked autumn. It marked the approach of my most dreaded season and all I could see was what I was losing. I was a lover of spring, with all its possibility and promise.
As I get closer to 50 and my own autumn, I’m developing a deeper understanding of the season. Living in the south has taught me to dread summer and embrace winter. Autumn is now a transition I enjoy.
My body is no longer as fit and trim as it once was, but it is strong and vibrant. My thoughts have never felt clearer; my writing never as fulfilling. I can see and imagine hues I never dreamed existed. I am ready to display my brilliance, even if it is tempered by the southern sun.
Autumn is a nice place to be.