Autumn has arrived these past few days. In the chill of the wind, the shortening of the afternoon, and the coolness of a sun now lower in the sky.
My Mother loves the summer. With each arrival of spring she sighs in relief and turns elegant, still beautiful, limbs to the sky. Her daughter is of another ilk. I welcome the mulberry, smoky, warmth of the richest season of the year. Summer promises long golden sandy days - but often disappoints. As the season turns I will wrap my children in warm, bright clothes. We will light our fire, draw our curtains, and tell bedtime stories in the dark.
My son was an autumn baby. In the woods around our home, the leaves will turn a rich, russet red and swirl in the wind. He will crunch them underfoot and splash in puddles - nose berry red from the new chilled air - on his morning walk to school... x