Shovels & Dirt is the name of today’s track. It comes from Canadian band, The Strumbellas, who blend folk and pop in a way that swells your chest and makes you want to march along to the music. Appropriately, their album is entitled Hope.
Current chain of writing days: 7
You may have noticed my chain of writing days above has dropped. Mostly this was because of the whole engagement thing, although I did actually complete my writing on the day of the proposal, and even did so post asking the question. That’s a supportive Future Wife for you. It was the following day when I broke the chain. We spent it exploring Queenstown while periodically video chatting with friends and family to tell them the good news and then finished it off by flying home. We got back to the house around 11pm Sunday night and I was well and truly pooped. I did have a brief thought of ‘Haven’t done my writing’ but figured I could blame it on the engagement, which isn’t the worst excuse. Meanwhile that means my PB (personal best, not to be confused with peanut butter) of consecutive writing days is 43. Let’s see if I can beat it.
I’ve discovered I quite like autumn.
Autumn is for the dreamers.
It’s for those that like to feel just a little bit chilly, a little bit cold. Those who then have a ringing tone of positivity as they call that cold, ‘brisk’. Stating that with that slight discomfort comes a freshness, a rejuvenation, that they want to suck deep into their lungs and let it course it’s way through their bodies until they feel reborn.
Autumn is for those that like to rug up a bit, without rugging up a lot. The people that want to wear the comfort of a warm sweater while still being just mild enough to keep their heads and hands free to continue experiencing the world. The people who have staunchly refused to wear shorts even through the hottest parts of summer, and who can now feel like themselves again as they don a beanie once more. Or not, if they don’t want to. That’s the beauty of autumn.
It’s for the people who wistfully watch the changing of the seasons and wonder at its many implications. Who look at the fading flora around them and see not plants and trees but the inevitability of life’s ultimate end. Who with sweet melancholy watch the dying of the leaves and draw glory and inspiration from their one last bout of beauty as they show off colours and tones not seen at any other time of the year; before dropping to the ground and dying a crunchy death.
Autumn is for the people who move out of their path so their foot finds that leaf and crunches it solely for the pure satisfaction of the sound. The people who, when a gust of wind plucks the loose leaves from the trees, open their arms to the shower of reds and oranges and yellow that fall down around them like small drops of fire.
Autumn is for people that like hot drinks on cold nights. For those that need a break from the sun, and sunscreen in particular. The ones who don’t mind the dark because it gives them space to think.
It’s for the people who write blogs and the people who read them.
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