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Blogs by Marge B. Fulton
Writing is Like Apples 9/23/2008 3:19:53 AM
Weathering..... It is that time of year. A time of contrast and change when nature rearranges the furniture. Fall is here doing its makeover. I am privy to change as well.
Yesterday the temperature varied by almost forty degrees. Some of these ancient trees are shedding like my big dog who sheds all year long. More light is getting through or is it the angle of the sun? I am no scientist but somehow feel a forty degree difference between highs and lows, must affect our minds as well. Mood swings seem normal. Emotion is tied to the changes of nature.
I try to stay grounded in the natural world. No, I am not a pagan either. The natural and the spiritual for me are like bratwurst with mustard. Chomp, chomp!
So, it is with that insight that I noticed the house on the hill this morning. This spread sits well above my husband's office. In summer, you would not know it is even there. In fall, it seems to wink at you behind a tussle of crisp leaves starting to scatter. In winter, you can see every detail of this massive home.
Suddenly, I could relate to this big house and so many others that sit atop a mountain. In summer, I feel insulated by nature. Each and every flower and filled out tree along with the tall grasses, are like an old quilt. We are wrapped in color and it feels good. In fall, you lose bits and pieces of the old you as you mourn the passing of summer. In cooler climates, one can feel some anxiety in autumn. Is the house ready for the cold? Am I ready to brave a possible wicked winter?
Winter does expose us the same way as it does that house on the hill. Lushness is gone. The masquerade is over. It is a season like bones. But it is during this stretch of time that we often renew bonds with family. On the downside, we get cabin fever and get on each other's nerves. Things are out in the open like the house on the hill.
Now, that I am in the groove of writing and painting, I suspect winter will be my time to write seriously. Blogs and poems are focused and deep. However, in winter in the mountains, you can warm yourself with your own thoughts and musings. I hope to return to writing fiction. This may all sound like a pile of manure but I have to say it.
I look forward to winter for the opportunity it brings me as a writer. Apples taste better after a cold snap. Words do too. Amazing isn't it?
