It’s chilly now in the mornings; you wake up and run into the kitchen to prepare your coffee and breakfast, the smell of bacon filling your nostrils. You log on to your work laptop, make it through another tedious meeting, seriously, they’re so obsessed with meetings, but then you open the window wide and into your living room enters a scent, that same scent that returns every year, the unmistakable scent of autumn.
It’s the weekend and you get out of the house, off to the little piece of wilderness in the city. It is a paradise. Leaves crunch under your feet, wind rustles in the trees. Crows caw overhead. Sunrays pierce through the tree branches, creating patches of light in the grass. The smell of wet earth. The sound of dog paws on leaf-covered ground. Squirrels hop from tree to tree, their tails wagging. Leaves fall. Some drop into a little brook, carried away to a place unknown. Yellow and orange and red, and all shades of brown. Some of the trees here are old, having witnessed generations of humans come and go. Their barks are gnarly and hard with years. Mushrooms grow among the foliage, inconspicuous little dwellings of fairies. Here and there, you find an acorn or a conker, half hidden in its spiky green shell. Shadows lengthen, it’s time to leave before it gets dark.
The pavements are covered with leaves, elderly residents taking care while walking not to slip on them. Golden and bronze leaves, big leaves and small leaves. The red of rose hips and berries. The pale purple of asters, occasionally the pink of roses that haven’t faded yet.
You’re home again. It’s started to rain, so you close the window. You light your pumpkin and cider scented candle and settle on the sofa with blankets and a nice cup of tea. The cat is purring next to you on the arm of the sofa, a happy animal. You switch the TV on and, from your streaming service’s menu, select a film.
It’s got to be a horror, of course, because now, kids, it’s spooky time!
Some Writing 