Fiction Daily.
A blog on writing, writers and why we read. Posted most mornings by Marion Blackburn.
Autumn at last
I woke this morning feeling well rested, as if I hadn't slept for months. In some ways, that's the truth. I never sleep well in summer. Even as a girl I remember turning for hours each summer night, napping for a few hours, then waking up. Of course, who knows tired when you're 14 years old?

As an adult, I tend to attribute restlessness to stress or other condition. Then, a cool fall evening arrives, day light savings time ends and the large duvet is on the bed and the next thing I know, I am really sleeping.

With autumn, there is a new world for me. I look inward, have new focus for the novel, find myself able to concentrate the way I need to write.

I also remembered today that I have a new pair of tap shoes in the closet and should begin tap lessons soon.

Running yesterday felt like a dream, too -- this is perfect weather for it. I saw five other runners last night as I paced down N.C. 33 through Brook Valley. That was more than I can remember seeing before, unless you count the track teams I sometimes spot on 10th Street.

This time is a harvest season, not just for crops. It's time to harvest deeper thoughts freed of summer's blazing frenzy; freedom of body, freed from the heat and steamy dampness; and freedom from the compulsion to enjoy yourself, dammit, it's summer. At last I can feel justified sitting on the couch reading the Sunday Times and sleep just fine at night.
2007-11-05 14:27:29 GMT
Add to My Yahoo! RSS