I have to say that I prefer that time a month into Autumn (or as it is called in other parts of the world, Fall) when the temperatures become bearable, and often there is the soft patter of rain and it’s a calming effect.
It suits my mood and it helps me with my writing, those days when you don’t feel like going out, you just stare out the window contemplating nothing in particular. These are days when it’s possible to write like you feel.
Unlike a lot of people, I actually like the rain. The pattering of raindrops on the roof and on the leaves of the foliage outside the window, the droplets running down the glass of the windows.
It has a calming effect, a serenity about it, that with a fire burning in the background (and I mean a real fire with burning logs) and soft music, perhaps some gentle jazz, or a symphony (please, not the Pastoral Symphony, but maybe Vivaldi’s Four Seasons).
Moving closer to winter, it gets colder, but not that bone-chilling cold of minus 29 degrees Fahrenheit that Northern Hemisphere winters have) but the 16 degrees centigrade we have, along with the rain and the wind.
Different seasons have different winds. Summer, they are strong and warm, Autumn, swirling and cool with that rustle through the leaves, Winter, hard and, well, not very cold as they are down south in places like Tasmania, and Spring, the gentle breeze with a hint of the coming summer.
On rare occasions, it can have the un-nerving effect, sort of like the wailing of a banshee. Or a sort of humming sound as it blows through the electricity lines.
It reminds me of a set of allegories I read about a long time ago,
Winter – sad
Spring – hope
Summer – happy
Autumn – reflective
Perhaps it is a little early for me to be reflective because where I live, Autumn is just about over and Winter is coming.
But, of course, this year will be different. Aside from the usual spate of colds and flu, we have a bigger problem, the possibility of an outbreak of COVID 19.
We may have won a short term victory but this is war, and as we all know, wars take years to win.
But in self-isolation, there is a silver lining. I might get to write that trilogy I’ve always wanted to.