It is September 22nd - the first official day of autumn here in the UK and in other Northern hemisphere countries. This is my favourite season. Outside my window an ornamental tree is laden with orangey-red berries. They won’t be there long because the local starlings, pigeons and black birds will strip it bare in the blink of an eye. The leaves on the cherry tree are turning to gold, soon to drop and drift across the lawn. We’ll rake them into piles, like crisps heaped for snacking.
Unfortunately today has also been marked by torrential rain and thunderstorms. We had a bucket on stage catching water that had found a way through the flat roof of our church auditorium this morning. In nearby Bedford two churches had to cancel their Sunday services because of flooding. Not a great start to a season known for mellow fruitfulness. If flooding is affecting where you are please stay safe.
Autumnal poetry
One of my writing goals is to see something of mine in MsLexia. Being a best-selling magazine for women writers it natually has very high standards and receives lots of submissions. Earlier this year, it invited submissions on the theme of ‘Red’. I wrote this poem about autumn and sent it off. It didn’t make it through to publication but I am not despondent. I will keep trying to crack this market. One day I will succeed. In fact, this afternoon I submitted a piece of flash fiction to their short story competition.
For now, though, I will share my poem here. It was fun to describe the various colours of autumn. As you will see, it mostly focuses on the visual appeal of autumn. Perhaps I should write some companion pieces the explore our sense of smell, sound, touch and taste. Anyway, as autumn officially takes charge of nature I hope you will enjoy my poetic offering.
When autumn asserts its authority
Autumn announces its arrival by seizing the wind,
colouring its aromatic spectrum with mellow scents
of purple plums and rosy apples. The rain-heavy
breeze kisses the burgundy bouquet of damp soil,
bittersweet on the tongue. The second volley
of summer’s rout is a siege, choking the life
from the palette of garden colours. Vibrant greens
overthrown by russet reds, burnt orange and
ochre shades of yellow. As lifeless leaves drift to the ground
autumn celebrates victory, revealing its riches
of ripe red fruit: hawthorn and viburnum,
rose hips and crab apples, A feast to forage for free. Shadows
lengthen. Frost nips in the early hours. A single defiant red rose
lifts its petals to the silvery sunlight.
Summer surrenders.
This evening I have friends coming for dinner. In celebration of autumn there will be stewed plums with cinnamon and cloves served warm over cold ice cream. My kitchen currently smells delicious.