 |
| Autumn is the perfect inspiration for writers |
That's it, summer's over, and if those crisper mornings are a still little overwhelmed by the warm afternoons, the drawing in of the evenings are a good indication that the world is still steadily turning and the seasons are still changing, regardless of the mayhem that seems to have surrounded us since the start of the coronavirus pandemic. Perhaps this year, more than most, the longer evenings, the cooler weather and the slowing into new routines provide a chance for reflection.
Autumn has always been a time for introspection, for slowing down from the frantic activity of summer. It is a time to gather up our thoughts, contemplate on the year that has gone by as it draws to its close, and to reflect. It is in autumn that I most miss England, with the rapid shortening of the days that the end of September brought, the nip in the air that made me reach for a sweater or a scarf, the mizzling rain, the foggy evenings, the russet and gold of the trees and the musk of damp earth on a morning walk.
Gibraltar has its own cycles: colour returns to the pockets of gardens around street corners and in the postage stamp parks; the tang of brine in the air sharpens when you walk near the sea; clouds gather and gloom on the horizons and some evenings you can almost taste the promise of rain from the west to alleviate the suffocating humidity of sunny afternoons. The air clears with the rain and the expanse of blue around the Rock is stunning, so bright it hurts the eyes, and the horizon appears closer, almost within reach, and this is the right time to dream.
To write poetry in particular.
There is something about the medium of poetry that suits the articulation of thoughts and feelings that are triggered in the change of the season. Autumn is transient. It is the petering out of summer and the heading into winter. It is the season where time is travelling forward while we seek to look back. It is as much about wrangling with inner conflict as it is about musing over the passing of time. Poetry, because it is brief, because it pares down each complex emotion and rambling thoughts into a few choice words, is ideal for expressing that range of ideas that tend to emerge during this time of year. And this year, we may all have much to express, to work out in our minds and in our lives, and poetry can be part of that, giving voice to the extremes of emotion that so many of us have experienced.
I had a long conversation with an old friend last week, someone whom I hoped to have spent a short time with this year, but given travel restrictions, could not. When we meet, which is infrequently at the best of times, we speak as if we had never been apart. We talk about everything and anything, and both of us lovers of literature and poetry in particular, conversation inevitably turns to the written word. So when we spoke last week, we voiced how the experience of the pandemic might influence our creativity. And we agreed that it wasn't just the disease, the lockdowns, the wearing of masks, the washing of hands, the concern that the people we love might die or fall so sick that the scars of the disease remain with them indefinitely; one of the most difficult aspects of this year has been the divisions between people, the hullabaloo of every highly opinionated voice, the incapacity of people to cooperate and work together to keep each other safe, the uncontrolled intolerance, the sheer mistrust of knowledge, the inflated proclamations by self-appointed experts that have created a maelstrom of negativity that is a stark reminder of just how weak humanity can be when threatened by that which it does not yet understand.
Autumn is the time of year which points towards death and decay - the falling leaves, the fading of the last flowers of summer, the encroaching darkness and storms of winter. Yet it also carries us to a form of rebirth, it directs us towards the winter and reminds us that this is only temporary. The summer will return, and all we need to do is pause, and take stock, and rethink how we face life's challenges.
Poetry, stories, art, music, will work through this period. Poetry will be the way some of us will give voice to the lessons of this historic time that we are experiencing. Poetry will linger for a long time and will tell the story of how we in Gibraltar and we as individuals came through this.
So, for all of you out there who are writers - whether you write for publication or secretly, for your personal satisfaction or to be read by others - make the most of autumn. Paint those gloriously stunning autumn images with your words, to remind the rest of us that the world about us is still beautiful, that it is worth striving for despite the darkness that seems to hover at its edges. Tell us how you or your characters have striven and survived. Sketch out those characters who will help us connect with the truths of this time. Distill those intense emotions and gather that intensity into the few words of a line of poetry that resonate with those universal truths that unite humanity.
Autumn is such a perfect time to pause and write.
