The Fall

'This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper'

Ok, so the world is not ending, but the season is. It began earlier this week; shorter days, cooler temperatures and a distinct lack of blue sky. Summer seems to have passed us by in the north of England, as ever.
I had hoped the season would end in a flourish of brilliant sunshine and soaring temperatures. Summer seems to have a better idea. Summer intends to slope off, gradually fading into Autumn before anyone has the chance to ask where it's off to. Summer is the quiet girl at the party who slinks away after an hour or so - going home for the night because the music's too loud and her friends are too drunk.

For a lot of people Summer is the season. Perhaps it's the heat, the green on the trees or the blue up above. Or perhaps these people realise what comes after. The birds migrate, the leaves fall and Summer's bright colours fade into grey. For the majority, Summer is a brief 'warm-up' act - the year's headline performance is six months of icy winds and thrashing rain. It's easy to see why people are so attached to Summer.

Summer, however, is not for me. I find Autumn much more appealing. From the morning's frost-bitten lawns to the evening's inky-black, star-littered skies. I love seeing my own breath (as a child I pretended to be a dragon!), and I love the smell of smoke from chimneys and garden fires. Autumn for me is Halloween. It is treacle toffee and roaring bonfires. Autumn is fireworks, thick clothes and hot chocolate. While it is a little disheartening to see Summer on her deathbed, I am quite content.

...Autumn is coming.

Image Owner: Donna St. Pierre

Horizons

Name: Samuel

Age: 20

Passion:...

Interesting, isn't it? How no CV, job application or interview asks for your passion in life. While each wants to get to know you, they all manage to miss this most important question. Instead they tend to focus on the academic achievements of your youth, and the hobbies you keep presently."Why yes, I got three As in my exams, and my hobbies include golfing and walking the dog." 

Quite unfortunate really...

It is unfortunate because this is not the measure of a person. You are so much more than this. What I feel truly defines you, is your passion in life. Everybody has a passion. An aspect of the world which fulfils them. An aspect that acts as a driving force and as a foundation for dreams. I place great importance in passion. It is neither a letter on the page, nor, necessarily, a socially accepted past-time. Your passion can be anything - any aspect of the world you please. It is not defined by culture. Nor by race, religion or social standing. The only criterion your passion requires is your full and undivided enthusiasm and enjoyment.

My passion in life, I am sure you are dying to know, is travelling. I look out of my window and can picture the rolling hills, rocky crags and dense forests that lie beyond the horizon. More than that, I picture myself exploring them. Journeying and adventuring. And nothing makes me happier. The feeling of elation is one you'll fully understand if you too have discovered your passion in life. I find myself, on occasion, wishing I was born elsewhere. Somewhere more rugged and rural. Somewhere with lakes and woods, rather than takeaways and pubs - that would be ideal. Honestly, I do not feel I will be completely happy until I can spend the majority of my life travelling, and exploring my passion.

It has started raining...

While I enjoy the sound of rain thudding off my window, I cannot help but think about those distant fields and forests. It will be raining there too. More than that, it will be pouring - and the wind will howl. The storm, so easily deflected at home, will bear down on these wild places. And I long to be there, experiencing.

I sincerely hope that you can relate to this feeling. That you too are this passionate about something - anything. I hope that you have found your passion and drive in life. If you have not, then remember...

...it is out there.

Image Owner: daylong

Incandescence

There are few situations that infuriate me more than an instance where my head is ready to burst, and I've nothing to put down on the page.

I'm sure everybody has these moments - moments where fantastical, absurd, bizarre and intriguing ideas bounce around in the old grey matter. You feel inspired, creative and eager to fashion some great literary work, write a perfect song or pen a revolutionary political statement...

But you can't.

You can't because these thoughts are similar to fireworks. They appear in the darkness, impossibly bright and indescribably dynamic. These rockets and Roman candles are sudden, screaming, stunning. But they are also fleeting. Rapidly disappeared. No sooner have you perceived them than they have dissipated into the darkness. And just as you might struggle to snap a photo before the firework fades in the sky, you cannot sum up your ideas with words as they have escaped you once more.

And so, this is how I find myself staring off into space, with the dull thudding of rain against my window to keep me company. Frustrated and wrapped up in my own fireworks.

At least I've managed to get one down on the page though.

image owner: Corey.C