I’ve Known This Season



Four years ago, I wrote a post about a leaf. It was the last one on the tree outside my window.

And it would not let go.

Some people commented that it was possible the tree was the one who wouldn’t let go.

A few days ago, I was reminded of that post when I wrote a tweet about a tree anticipating the upcoming season. How the tree would be bare and vulnerable. How it had been through this before.

So, yes, I’ve known this season.

Many seasons of losing bits of myself. Allowing the chlorophyll to seep away and show the world my true colors. Making myself vulnerable while being brave enough to bare leafless branches. Letting go of the leaves I’ve worked so hard to grow. Ones I thought I needed.

The leaves are just beginning to turn. They are changing. Dying. I need to remember there is beauty in these deaths.

I will survive. I can let go.

Dried-up dreams are getting caught in autumn breezes and whipping around my feet. I can let them scratch my ankles or I can dance with them.




My Sunday thoughts in 200 words or less.Β 


This tweet also inspired a response to Sue Vincent’s #WritePhoto over at Lemon Shark Reef. I love the way one, tiny thought can bloom into a flash, a poem, or a navel-gazing blog post (or even a book). It’s part of the magic and beauty of the writing process.Β 


How about you, gentle readers? What is changing for you this season? Have you let go of anything recently?Β 


Just a reminder: Hinting at Shadows is on sale for only 0.99 during October. πŸŽƒ
If you’d like to download a copy, here’s the link:
Hinting at Shadows πŸ–€

41 thoughts on “I’ve Known This Season

    • Ooh… That sounds wonderful. Like the universe is creating a mosaic for you. If you step back, you may be able to see what’s coming together. Or not. But I’m sure it’ll be exactly what you need, whatever it is, once it’s completed. πŸƒπŸ‚πŸ§‘ Enjoy the (slightly painful) process. Happy Autumn.


  1. Beautiful letting go, growth, and navel-gazing, Sarah. πŸ™‚ I had to let go of writing for a year, and now hope to recapture some of the energy. Life is constant change and there’s no point in trying to keep everything the same. Dance with the flow is wonderful advice. ❀

    Liked by 1 person

    • I do tend to navel-gaze. Hmm…

      *looks at trees*
      *drifts off*
      *thinks about existential angsty things*

      Oh, hello.
      Dancing with the flow of change is the only way to do this. You’re right, life is constantly changing so why do we resist changing with it? Again, that’s another post right there but, really, we do. I know you’ll get back to writing. It’s in your blood. Like me, sister inker. (There’s a bio floating around out there I wrote a bit ago saying, “I bleed ink.”) Plus, the world needs your stories. ❀ Hope you’re enjoying the season! πŸƒπŸ‚πŸ§‘

      Liked by 1 person

    • I LOVE this–letting go of distraction. It’s so easy to tell yourself (or have others tell you) to stay focused. But, really, it’s so much more beneficial to say that we can be distracted but, once we realize that’s what’s going on, let go of whatever is dissolving our focus. Thanks, Teri. Happy Autumn! πŸƒπŸ‚πŸ§‘

      Liked by 1 person

    • Aw, that’s cool. Yeah, I love that post with the trees saying, “Hey, world, this is who I really am. No more hiding.” πŸ˜‰ I know you know the feeling of letting go. I just chose to look at that (recently) as a beautiful thing. Or at least something that *can* be beautiful. Thanks, Charli. πŸƒπŸ‚πŸ§‘


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