Monday, October 8, 2012

MONDAY MUSINGS—SEASONS CHANGE




Some dreams are in the nighttime  
And some feel like yesterday
But leaves turn brown and fade 
You long to say a thousand words
But seasons change… 
You dream again and scenes remain 
But seasons change…

People change...





The seasons are changing around us and we change with the seasons. Each season has it's beauty, if we but look. Even the stark landscape of winter, still...  

As brutal as summer was, I’m not really looking forward to winter and snow. I know we need it, but still, snow? Ice? Freezing temperatures? Breaking ice in the water troughs? Ugh.

I have SAM, a seasonally affected muse. She loves the changing of the seasons—especially fall and winter. She’s not too jazzed by summer unless it’s an early misty morn and sometimes when the full moon colors the landscape in silver and shadows. She loves rainy days and when the snow is falling and it’s cold my muse loves to come out and play.

We had our first light frost last night and had to turn on the heat for the first time. The muse is rubbing her hands in delight. I took a walk in the gorgeous sunshine and everywhere I looked autumn color was beginning to show. 

I thought I’d share some pictures (you can click on the pictures to enlarge) of the beauty that surrounds me as I walk the property.

This is a walk just down from my house.
There is still more green than fall colors but I can’t look anywhere on the ranch without seeing evidence that autumn is definitely here.
  
This is one of the barns.This one is beyond my back yard. We have a lot of oak and they turn late, so colors of 
other trees are just beginning to show back here. 


In my front yard the oak on the left is just beginning to color. At the end of my driveway you can see another one of our pastures and there are lots of walnut, dogwood, and other trees which tend to turn faster than the oaks.

I ran across a waterfall of red. The color was gorgeous. I like to walk here every fall just to see how it looks. Some years it has more yellow to the underside of the leaves other years it's a deep red, almost burgundy. It never fails to elicit a moment of awe as I see creation's splendor. A feast for the eyes and for the creative spirit within us.





In your writing, do the seasons effect what you write? Are there seasons that seem to create thousands of words? Or do the words wither up and blow away with brown leaves before the cold winter winds?


  • Do you have a SAM? A Seasonally Affected Muse?