I don't know whether this is a widespread phenomena or whether it's just me but the onset of autumn brings about such an unsettled state of mind. Whilst sitting and waiting one morning this week I heard a lady on the radio offering up the concept that although the season appears on the surface to be all death and decay there is in fact plenty of hope to be found in the gathering of the fruits of summer labours and quite literally making them into something new. She ventured on to propose that even in the 'autumn' of adult life (ie. When things stagnate or seem to have to purpose or seem to be falling to pieces) that by gathering up the components around us we can make something new and positive to move forward with.

I may well have grimaced. To me, autumn is such a naturally dismal time of the year; watching everything so good about summer just going to ruin all around from great tall trees, acres of fields and to the ground beneath my feet. The whole world falls apart in my hands and I can't stop it. Each leaf turning one by one from a lush, green piece of artistry to a flaccid, sickly yellow before deathly brown either initially crisp or straight to wet before eventually becoming a gungey gooey slop of a primitive bog.

I'm trying to find the best in everything, but I guess right now I need to try a little harder.

Sophie