by Magi Nams
This morning, frost flashes sunlight through countless prisms. Tenacious ochre leaves cling to apple twigs. Birch trees stand bare in white-barked elegance. Autumn slides inexorably toward winter, that time of tension between celebrating the clean beauty of snow and cozying up to a heat source indoors.
Our property in northern Nova Scotia was once a farm settled by Scottish pioneers, but fields eventually abandoned grew over as grassy meadows decades ago (before my family was on the scene) and are now parkland abutting hemlock forest. At the border of parkland and forest we have a special place with a microclimate all its own, a feel all its own. Not meadow. Not forest. It's a place of change. An edge.
As a writer/gardener, I'm stepping into a place of change between the demands of producing much of my own food and the freedom to devote more hours a day to writing. I've put my veggie and fruit gardens to bed. I've stored huge bags of leaves to mulch my many flowerbeds after the ground freezes. I've filled my porch planters with balsam fir boughs, alder nutlets, and rose hips to add a festive touch to my house for the winter. I still have a few scattered tasks to complete, but I'm saving those for exercise breaks from writing.
Standing in this place of change – on this edge – is exciting. For months, I've squeezed writing time in around hours of outdoor work, which to my mind was a fair exchange when the glories of summer and autumn surrounded me. But now I can move on to a different harvest – a harvest of ripened characters and dialogue and plot in the remaining 20,000 words of my romantic WIP. I intend to seed and weed and pluck those words as carefully as I did my corn. I also intend to let those words run free like the jumbled beauty of wildflowers. Come and get me, Winter. My characters and I will run into your arms.
Check out my website, where I'm blogging today about images of autumn: www.nams.ca/MagiBlog.
Labels: autumn, Nova Scotia, romance, writer/gardener, writing lifestyle