Autumn has arrived in the uk, i'd like to say with a bang, but it was more of a squish. A squish of soggy leaves and crab apples on my street, a squish of people on the tube in rain gear, and in the case of this evening a squish of soaking socks in leather shoes belonging to a pensive authoress caught in a torrential down pour on the way back from the tube... thankyou weather gods.
Autumn, as my sister rightly said, is a sad time of year, worse than winter in it's way because there is beauty in the crispness of december, the fridgid winds of January, but the damp, moist, soggy humidity of october leaves little to be desired. and rather than the bare bones scratching across the silver skies, trees at this time of year look decidedly depressed as if they can't quite take the weight of the world on their shoulders and might as well give up.
So it's at this time i find myself drawn to writing the saddest parts of my novella, the ending, and the painful and hopefully scary mid section. it seems appropriate to emerse myself in the fear so close to Halloween... maybe it will help.
outside of the dark dreary picture i'm painting for you now there is some joy. As of Saturday it will be exactly 1 year since my glorious wedding day, a reminder that good things do come to those who....
so i am looking forward to a few days alone with my beloved, no work to interfere and a chance to explore London as a tourist for once, seeking inspiration in the many museums that i have until now fobbed off with the familiar excuse that i simply do not have the time.
prehaps this time i will finally get in to the mummy exhibit at the british museum...
wait and see i guess.