Gloriously Autumnal

“Victim of Autumn”
Photograph by James Leader, SquarePeg Photography

Today’s Daily Prompt: Turn, Turn, Turn just gives me an excuse to hold forth and make much ado over the best of all seasons. Now, I know I am biased. But, in what other season do you have such glorious contradition and riotous beauty? Autumn is a beautiful mess.

I was named after this season. Decades before my name became the flavour of the month, back when it was unique. I miss those days. I liked having a name as unusual and uncommon as the season itself. It’s an Individualist thing. We insist on being different. I have actually mourned over the (in recent years) popularity of the name. I have begged friends NOT to name their children after me. But, I digress (just a whole lot); I’m not here to talk names, but seasons.

There’s a vibrancy in the season of Autumn that is unmatched in any other season.  For me, what I look forward to every year is the reprieve from the over-hotness (in my opinion) of Summer and the fling of colour before Winter bleaches the land again.

Autumn is passionate and powerful and…magical. Yes, all things Autumnal are magic. She is moody; she is erratic; she is flippant, she is serious; she can be gentle, she can be raging and violent; she whispers, she shouts; she is…wild, untamed, and she has a music all her own. And, I could have replaced all those “shes” with “I”. My mother named me well. She is beautiful (well, I couldn’t have it all…that’d just be greedy).

I love the season for which I was named. I feel intimately connected with it. Last year I had the great delight of releasing my first EP length album. It was aptly titled:

Gloriously Autumnal Album Cover

And, really, everything I could say about my favourite of – and the best of all – seasons, I have written in the title track of that album. I invite you to listen, and fall. Fall for Autumn. She is both the most treacherous and most faithful of loves. I invite you to sing her glory with me.

It feels gloriously Autumnal
Colours swirling in the wind
Sweep me away, again
Carry me away, carry me awayTumbling through the air
The colours beyond compare
Sweep me away, again
Carry me away, carry me awayThe crunch beneath my feet
The vividness so sweet
I’m swept away, again
Carried awayAnd everything is old and new
I begin again, and end with you
I lay me down, and rise so high
In a whisper, I die
In your wildness, I fly
Carried awayThe chill that takes my breath
(How beautiful) this mingled life and death
Sweeping me away, again
I’m carried awayAnd everything is old and new
I begin again, and end with you
I lay me down, and rise so high
In a whisper, I die
In your wildness, I fly
Carried awayCarried away, carried away
Oh, carry me away, carry me awayEverything is old and new
I begin again, and end with you
I lay me down, and rise so high
In a whisper, I die
In your wildness, I fly
Carried away

Carry me away, carry me away
Carry me away, carry me away
Oh, carry me away, carry me away
Carry me away, carry me away

credits

from Gloriously Autumnal, released 02 November 2012
Written and performed by Autumn Dawn Leader.
All vocals: Autumn Dawn Leader. Piano: Autumn Dawn Leader
© Autumn Dawn Leader
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3 responses to “Gloriously Autumnal

  1. Pingback: Les Boise Lumineux, Idaho | The Jittery Goat

  2. My name was unusual, yet slightly trendy. It’s insisted unlike other Laras, I was not named after the character in Dr. Zhivago. I dislike that character because I found her to be seriously mentally unstable and lacking in appropriate coping and morality, in my opinion at perhaps 12 years. Ironic that it seems perhaps a bit apt these days in that way.
    Names are something that is special. Your name is beautiful, conjuring to me the hint of the scent of fallen leaves, the glory of the rainbow of colours implicit both in dawn and in the autumn leaves fading, I think I hear a rustle as the wind flips around those leaves in the trees, feel them trying to catch in my hair… four senses. And the taste of Autumn, perhaps pumpkin pie? Or, perhaps a pumpkin spice latte when thinking of you?
    Seasons are lovely, and those of our birth deeply symbolic to me. I’m a winter baby. Born on my due date at 4:30 AM, after 4 hours of labour. Deeply symbolic, perhaps of the perfectionism I strive for.
    Enough yapping on Autumn’s blog.

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