Friday, May 31, 2013

Steps to Yesteryear - Autumn Walks

Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.  
Robert Browning

Silver Birch - Crabapple House
Here in Australia, the last day of autumn has slipped by so quickly it's hard to imagine we're about to hit winter tomorrow. I've made no secret of my love of autumn on this blog. I've celebrated it's arrival and lamented it's end, and listed, year after year, its generous merits and glorious folds. 

I was born in May, so autumn's always held celebration for me. When I was 21, I married in early-autumn, capturing its leafy charms in my wedding photos. So I'll always sink into blissful sentimentality each March to May, and watch my favourite season float through the sky to rest by my feet. 

These last few weeks I've shunned my modern-day shelters of car and gas heated rooms, to face the weather as it turns to winter. Autumn showers have lead to romantic walks in the rain with my Beloved. And many wanders on my own... where I've breathed the last of this season with its early fires and wet grass, and prayed with each sidestep over puddles in my way. While some cringe at the thought of cold weather, I embrace it. God's made us all different, right? So I'll gladly admit, the cold does not push me away. I like to imagine I'm one of my heroines, out in the blast with shawl and wet shoes for my troubles. 

Fallen Leaves - Crabapple House

Give me the pit-pat of rain on my umbrella. And the wind, and the scarf tossed against my mouth, and low, thinned out branches against a sunless sky as they drop the last of their faded greens. For me, this is a beautiful place to lose myself... to walk and think. To escape. 

And there's a word for people like me. I must be a true melancholic. Suited to solitary walks along windblown roads, content to ponder the path ahead. But it's not all romance and violins. Most melancholics are introverted, moved by beauty and by distress, and prefer to be alone with their own thoughts. They are not aggressive and wish to flee from trouble. And perhaps the hardest for a writer... they are thin-skinned. 
Crabapple House

How about you... which of the four temperaments best describes you? Melancholic, Phlegmatic, Choleric or Sanguine... or a blend all your own? 

Perhaps this is why, like Robert Browning, I regard the decay of autumn with some sympathy. Perhaps, you're a kindred spirit... and you do too. 

Blessings for a wonderful weekend, whether you're in the mood to embrace the sun or welcome the gusts of winter. Happy reading,