Autumn (Fall, for you Americans out there) is my favorite time of the year. I love the colors, the golden leaves, the smell of the earth, the wind, the slight nip in the air. Fog and mist are more prevalent and turn ordinary places into mystical groves where anything could happen.
I'm very glad I have Poppy to ride this year, because I will get to see the seasons change properly, and be out in the woods right among that riot of copper and gold.
The days get shorter (they are much shorter already), cooler, crisper. Clearer, in a way. 
The deer are rutting, the roars of the stags sound eerie in the early morning mist.
You can be forgiven to think the image here was taken deep in the countryside. Not so. This is a stag in Richmond Park, which is a part of Central London. (Click for a larger view, you can see the city in the background.) You'll have to get up dang early to catch a sight like this one.
So you see, magic does happen, even in the most unlikely places.
I take this time to let the autumn wind blow the cobwebs from my mind and draw fresh ideas. Most people will name spring as a time of renewal, but for me it has always been the fall months where I renew my energy. Spring, to me, is soggy, wet and gray. Yes, things start to bloom, but it takes a long time to see it, whereas autumn seems to just suddenly start one day.
I went out yesterday, in golden sunshine, and looked up… to see golden leaves on a tree. Autumn has started – and for once, I noticed.
There was mist in the morning, the other day. It's come early this year, perhaps it means we'll have a hefty winter, I don't know. It still seems a long way away, but really… November isn't that far off. Time to get the pullovers out, make sure the warm boots still fit, waterproof the raincoat.
I do a lot of thinking this time of year. I dread October. While I love autumn, I'm ambivalent about the month of October. Halloween / Samhain, for me isn't so much a celebration of Summer
's End (which is what Samhain is), but an end to October. Most of the people I've lost in my life, I lost during October. So for me, October and death are synonymous. (April is fast getting there, too.)
It kind of reflects in my writing. If I set a story in October, bad things will happen. I don't think I've ever had a happy ending during October in a story.
And yet, I still love autumn. I don't hate October quite as much anymore, and can appreciate the weather and what the month brings, but I doubt my feelings about it will ever change.
I'm looking forward to the gloomy mornings, to seeing deer graze in a meadow shrouded in mist, foxes stalk the hares. I look forward to the twilight of the year, the mystical quality autumn brings to the world.
What is your favorite time of the year? Do you dislike a time of year? Does it influence your writing?
