John Burroughs
We've had quite a few of those beautiful, bright, blue sky autumn days and they do lift one's spirits. For most of us in the UK, spirits are badly in need of lifting, what with the mess the government is in, the lack of true leadership or even common-sense, the energy crisis, the cost of living crisis, the effects of Brexit, the war in Ukraine, the climate change crisis - to mention just a few things, in no particular order. I can't ever recall a time, even when things have seemed 'bad' before, that things nationally and internationally have been in quite such a storm. (Nearly said s***storm and that's what I mean!) Nevertheless, I'm enormously grateful to be where I am, at this stage of life, with everything that I really need and knowing too that my family are as resilient as they can be to weather these storms. I alternate between feeling angry, sad, ashamed, worried... But no amount of worry makes any difference; there's little most of us 'ordinary people' can do apart from what many of us always do, which is to take responsibility for our own lives; vote sensibly when we get chance! ; notice, care and try to support others where we can and nurture ourselves with food, sleep, exercise and whatever calms one's own particular soul.
As is obvious from my blogs, my own main 'calming' comes from nature. Just being out in the fresh air, walking and enjoying the rhythmic movement of my own body, noticing all the small things - the birds, trees and other aspects of nature's bounty; the colours; the light and how it affects the scene; the sounds; the scents - all those are gifts. Sometimes I'm able to capture some of those gifts in a photo and then I can share a little of what I experienced with others. If I can write an uplifting blog post or share a beautiful picture, I know that there are a few people, perhaps less able to get out themselves, for whom that picture and those few words might provide interest, a spark of reminiscence or a little hint of pleasure in an otherwise quiet day. That in itself is worth celebrating, I guess, though that is not why I take photos and write my blogs, which is entirely a matter of self-interest and self care. It makes me feel better, brings me joy, provides a focus (if you'll excuse the pun). Similarly there are many who bring me joy, in the same way, through their blogs, their writing or their art and photography.
Each of our seasons (and I'm glad to live in a country that does have definable seasons) has its own merits. Personally my favourite time of year is spring, when warmth creeps in, light rises, soft greens unfurl, flowers and blossom appear - bluebells and cherry blossom being particular treats for me. Spring also seems full of new beginnings, fresh starts, new energy. My whole being starts to uncurl in step with nature. I wake from sleep, stretch, feel energised.
Then, I suppose, autumn would be my second favourite time of year, though somehow I feel I never quite make the most of it. It has echoes of a new school year (even so very many years since I started one!) It's a bit of a blank page, rather intimidating somehow. The lifestyle magazines are full of warm colours - reds, oranges, russets and browns - none of which are 'my' colours. There are cosy throws, mulled wine, candles, a sense of closing in, snuggling down. Hygge is the trendy word: a mood of cosiness and 'comfortable conviviality', with feelings of wellness and contentment. Bearing in mind that many of my autumns start (as this one has done) with a not-very-healthy dose of a heavy cold (blame children and grandchildren going back to school!) and it doesn't somehow help me to find that mood. Nor does the fading of the light, our long northern nights.
I'm not a huge follower of astrology, I have to say, but my star sign is an air sign, whereas autumn always seems to be about earth and fire. (Even in that photo at the top, I thrill as much to the blue sky as the russet leaves.) So the season never seems to be a good fit for me. It does, however, lend itself to musings. As Nietzsche said:
'Notice that autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.'
For me there is some grief in there, a sense of things slipping away. It's not called 'Fall' for nothing. Yes, I know things in nature often have to die before they are reborn; I know all about there being times and seasons for everything and I respect that, yet I still feel sad. I still feel like cutting myself off from the world, even the conviviality that others can create. I want to hibernate. It feels cold, not cosy. I wonder what autumn and winter must have been like for my ancestors who were farmers, out in all weathers, breaking the ice on the water trough so their stock could drink. I wonder how my coal miner forebears could bear the monotony of going to work in the dark, working all day in the dark and then going home in the dark, to sleep in the dark. Must have needed a lot of forbearance.
Things change; new generations reinterpret things in new ways and yet often have to learn again many of 'the old ways' in order truly to survive and thrive.
Virginia Woolf
