On seasons

autumn leaves

The trees put up a good fight, basking as long as they could, but finally, winter has pried their leaves from their branches.

Likewise, I’ve been doing some shedding of my own. It’s not so much a winter of discontent as a spring clean come early. Winter is a good time for taking stock, working out the way ahead, the path travelled. The memorabilia has been reduced to a few tubs, the books and CDs pared back. If only regrets were so easily discarded, and joys enshrined.

Autumn has always been my favourite season, and now that I’m down in the south, I’ve been able to truly appreciate it: a low sun, the dropping temperature, and of course the glorious colours of the turning leaves.

As I said, the leaves aren’t the only things that are changing down here — even though it’s winter, there’s that touch of spring, an air of renewal. As Bowie might say, Ch-ch-ch-changes … there’s no future without a past, but the past isn’t something to be dwelled on. Learnt from, certainly, but let’s try to dodge it’s little Gothic claws and enjoy the sunshine ahead.

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