Thursday, November 4, 2010
I always feel a nip of sorrow with the disappearance of the autumn leaves and the first frosts of November, October was so beautiful, all that color. Now it is gone and we are left with dark shadows and cold. We humans are so resistant to change. When our hair begins to grey we want to hold onto the color and buy some at the store. We plaster crème on our age spots and shade our faces from the sun. Yet, what does nature care? Nature doesn’t try to hold the seasons back, each one is necessary and contains it’s own uniqueness. The leaves don’t try to dye themselves orange again. Instead they don drab brown and give themselves willingly back to the earth. It is so hard for us humans to do the same.
I loved this article from Does Publishing a Book Make You a Writer? By Susan Henderson, author of Up from the Blue.
"A writer is someone whose senses are wide awake—who notices the person sitting alone at a party, the sound of an acorn falling on the roof of a car, the unusual item a stranger sticks in his pocket. A writer can imagine something in such detail that it comes to life, can see a scene from all points of view, can put the words in such an order that they sound like music. The qualities that make a person a writer are not defined by outside success but are embedded in the soul and carried out by the pen."
Read whole article HERE.