I finally put away my winter clothes this past weekend. I held on to them a bit long because it was so cold this winter and I wanted to be prepared if this warm, sunny weather did not really stay around. As I was placing the last sweater out of the way, I realized that each season we all have certain traditions that mark the change of season, the progression of the year, the movement of life.
Spring: I equate Spring as the first real season of the year even though we start the year in Winter. I hate the cold so much I prefer to think of a new year as a new season. Spring makes people feel as if they just woke up from a long nap. The trees are blossoming. If you live in DC, you get a couple weeks of amazing blossoming of the Cherry Blossoms and you feel as if that is the mark that spring has finally arrived. In poems and books spring is about rebirth. It can mean new love or new opportunities. The dark winter has moved to a lightness that you can feel even in people around you.
Summer: We have gotten used to the light and now have to deal with the heat. It is very analogous. Often what attracts us initially has a glow and softened edges. Yet, exposed to the harsh heat and light those same edges are sharp and we did not notice until they had been exposed to the light for a length of time. Summer can be enjoyable and celebratory but just don't forget your sunblock or you will get burned by the light.
Autumn: I love autumn and not just because my birthday is right before the start of autumn. Autumn to me is acceptance and a comfort. We face the bright light and now we can snuggle down to a bit of comfortable warm or coolness. It is not too cold yet, it is no longer too warm. Autumn is the equivalent of the "Three Bears" of seasons...it is just right.
Winter: I enjoy about one week of winter and then I am usually ready for spring. That is not truly fair. We need winter and the cold. I understand the theory of appreciating spring because of winter. I understand the need for the world to hibernate in order to refresh itself. I just wish it wasn't so cold. The one good thing about winter is that it is a perfect time to snuggle under the covers with a good book or a cup of hot chocolate. I can not focus in the winter, not because I am not as distracted by the outdoors but because I feel the need to just sleep like a brown bear. It is darker in the winter and movements feel slower.
Many may disagree with my assessment of the year. That is my assessment of course. As I was pulling out my writing this weekend to work on it, which I have not done in a while, I realized my book was like the seasons. You start the beginning with a promise of a story and an excitement over the possibilities of what you are writing. As you progress you sometimes find yourself searching your characters motivations to know how to continue and may even see the story take a direction for which you were unprepared. That is what happened to me and, though I feel it is better than I initially envisioned, it is still a small internal fight to let go of your initial outline. The characters and motivations were not known initially though and a character's personality can shape how the story progresses as I have learned. Then I got comfortable with the new direction of the story and the words started to fall upon the page easier. I was exhilarated by the new direction but there was a comfort and acceptance in what was occurring and what was ensuing. I am now in the winter of my story though and the harshness of the plot line is revealing itself. The emotions of the characters are raw and revealing. The main action is approaching. I am winding down in the story but before we can get back to Spring we have to go through Winter. Before we can come to the end and the resolution of the action we have to first get through the harsh realities and the emotions of the characters.
I have not been able to write as much because of the depth of the action and emotion has been a bit daunting. I am in the winter of my novel and it has made me want to just snuggle under the covers and shut out the story. It is spring now though and we can once again step outside and see the sunshine. My story has been brought out again and as the winter of the story comes to a close I move closer to the end and the resolution. Writing is just as seasonal and my novel is almost ready for Spring.
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