Some people choose spring as the season of rebirth and rejuvenation; Olive prefers autumn. To grow again under the soft, protective foliage of new fallen leaves after the harsh exposure of summer is a temptation Olive cannot, and won't, resist.
How can it be nearly a year since I have posted! Olive has never been very keen on odd-numbered years, and 2011 was not keen on her. Like stomping out the year, crunching the leaves beneath my feet is going to be a satisfying activity this fall, a healing one at that. New things grow from this sort of composting, don't they? That is a heart-warming, and inspiring thought!
All this sounds melancholy, and just a little fierce for someone so diminutive. It's not meant to be. Life has taken on a wonderfully coloured hue of late, and it's time to share the creative whispers that scuttle around Olive's head at night, begging to be set free.
I hope you have not forgotten me, for I have most definitely not forgotten you! Quietness does not equal absence: I have been lurking around all your blogs, even if the comment button has become rusty.
The rain has just stopped, and there is brightness to the south. It's time to go outside for a moment, if only to invite you all back in. Will you join me this September for lots of adventures on Olive Writes? Where shall we go, and what shall we do? Do tell!
The tea is always on,
Image found here.