Colors of Fall

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Fall color! Vibrant reds, glowing oranges, brilliant yellows. That's what today's post was supposed to be about. But Seattle has seen little color this month. According to this article the "blob"--warm water over the northeast Pacific Ocean--is robbing us of the chilly nights needed for those rich autumn hues.

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While the nights have been mild this fall, we have had fog and rain. Yes, far more gray than color.

 

 

 

How to handle this unanticipated lack of fall splendor that has paled my intended topic? Pivot! A term I'm encountering often lately. So, if fall fails to deliver color, I'll look at gray.

Gray isn't always drab--consider the myriad shades and ways of describing the spectrum between white and black. There isn't even one way of spelling gray or grey, depending on which side of the "pond" you live.

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The scale from white to black is infinitely varied. Nature takes full advantage of the range, from the clouds above to the stones below.

 

 

 

Agate from Pinterest

 

Gray, silver, smoky, gunmetal, charcoal, slate, ashy, all of these terms bring different images to mind. The mental picture words create is of prime importance to me as a writer.

 

 

In my story drafts, having to pivot is something I regularly face. Feedback from beta readers may indicate they don't really know my main character, or her actions need more explanation. The picture I'm trying to paint with my words ends up simply black and white on the page.

Reflecting on what I've written and having to look at things differently so I can incorporate reader feedback brings me back to that most important gray matter--my brain.

Meaning of Gray

So, rather than viewing my story as a drab failure, I can use my gray matter to bring vibrancy to a story that readers will enjoy. And with the rainy days ahead, what better way to spend them than coloring the world of my story?

Sweater Weather ~ by Kristine Raymond

I love this time of year.  Cooler temperatures, bright azure skies, colorful leaves floating gently down to blanket the ground.  In other words - sweater weather.

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That's what we called it when I was a kid growing up in New England.  It began in mid-September; a morning chill in the air that lingered during trips to the apple orchard or farmers' market.  A crispness that accompanied walks along a sandy stretch of beach devoid of summer tourists, when the mercury hovered between too-cool-for-a-T-shirt and too-warm-for-a-coat.  Sweater weather.

© Depositphotos

I love sweaters.  Bulky cables, lightweight Henleys, soft cashmeres.  As with most of my wardrobe, I tend to stay with muted, earth-tone hues, but every now and then, a brightly-colored knit catches my eye, and I succumb to temptation.  


One of my favorite memories is of visiting the Fall River Knitting Mills factory outlet in Fall River, MA and picking out a new Fair Isle sweater or Shaker knit.  

After 25 years, autumn in Kentucky is still a bit of a shock to me.  While I enjoy the mild winters we experience here - nothing like the Nor-easters I've endured - September in this southernly state is more akin to summer climate than fall.  In fact, as I type this, the 'feels like' is a balmy 94° and the forecast for the rest of the week is even hotter; not quite inspiring me to pull my cozy woolens from the drawer.  (Sadly, I donated all but a few of my favorites to charity years ago to make room in my dresser for shorts and tees.)  

But that doesn't stop my yearning to bundle up and lie amongst the fallen leaves, relishing the arrival of my favorite season.

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