In coastal Maryland where I live, fall is like a formal ball. Red, green, gold, and orange festoon each tree and shrub. The sun and dank heat of second summer dance with the cool wind. The mist and rain switch partners often, seemingly undecided whether they prefer cool or heat.
These descriptions are all clichés.
So, too, are the green and gold that hover along and beneath the ridge lines in the Rockies. The bright, crisp air whose color matches its feel is another cliché in my home of many years in Colorado. Yet I never grow tired each time I experience these phenomena.
Both versions of autumn share commonalities, yet feel fundamentally different to inhabit. In both places, nature commands everyone's attention. In case anyone was taking nature for granted during the busyness of summertime, nature calls attention to itself in fall.
What are some of autumn's hallmarks where you live? How can you use nature in your writing in a way that's fresh and alive?
Comparisons of seasons in nature to seasons in our lives are common. How can you make such comparisons fresh?
In what other ways can you leverage nature as metaphor?For instance, the photo shows a leaf against a landscaped pebble background. That tension between the artificial and the natural can also be seen in the current trend of using organic elements in interior design—even when those elements are manufactured (think plastic foliage, bamboo sheets). Perhaps it's the taming or hybridization of nature that calls to you.
If you often refer to nature in your writing, what purpose does nature serve in your work? How does it enhance your writing? If you avoid nature in your work, why? What does this tendency convey?