Out of season

A buzzard perches on a rain-blacked branch devoid of leaves. I cannot help but notice the bird as I pass, both of us huddled against the chill, it is the very image of winter. Dark fingers reach for the sky as if in supplication, as if the trees are praying for the sun, while the earth is warmed by a blanket of fallen glory.

The hedgerows wear motley. Evergreens and those few bushes that stubbornly refuse to shed their leaves are interspersed by flashes of colour and emptiness. And then there are those that cling, golden, to autumn. They say that for everything there is a season… but it appears that not everything agrees when those seasons should begin and end.

In the garden, where the hostas retreated long ago, hiding from the frost beneath the dark earth of winter, the roses refuse to relinquish summer. I cannot help thinking how alike we are, plants and people. Many will cling to the illusion of the past rather than accepting the reality of the present.

Others simply age in grace and beauty, needing no illusion to sustain them. Perhaps summer lives in their hearts so that they do not fear the frost, knowing change to be part of the rhythm of life.

In odd corners, the first daffodils are breaching the surface. Spring is already on its way before winter has truly begun; a promise of a tomorrow whose seeds were sown long ago. We see time as linear, but past, present and future are often so closely intertwined that it is impossible to separate them.

And then there are the rebels, the ones that take you by surprise and flower out of season. Spring anemones on the verge of bursting into bloom on a grey November day. Nature, like human nature, works at its own speed. The seasons we expect are no more than a generalisation; early bloomer or late, what does it matter, as long as we let ourselves grow?

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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31 Responses to Out of season

  1. Sadje says:

    Reality of life. Wonderfully expressed.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. queadrian says:

    So beautiful from the inside, open out to those flowers.πŸŒΉπŸ‘

    Liked by 1 person

  3. jenanita01 says:

    I often wonder if Nature gets a little bored with routine sometimes, provoking these delightful, if foolish deviations?


  4. There is no real ‘dead’ season. Growth slows down above ground in the winter, but there’s always something willing to risk it.


  5. Nature is a beautiful thing. Lovely photos x


  6. willowdot21 says:

    Nature is amazing πŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œ


  7. Another wonderful post linking the wisdom and lessons of nature to our lives, Sue. I love it when you travel these paths and share your discoveries. ❀


  8. Your descriptions are vivid Sue. Love the picture of that red rose.


  9. Widdershins says:

    “Fie to the notions of seasonal supposed-to’s and shoulds,” say the flowers! πŸ˜€


  10. My tiny roses are also hiding and somehow, surviving when everything else is gone … except some of the wild vines which are growing like mad.


  11. Jennie says:

    Yes, as long as we let ourselves grow. Well said, Sue. This was a lovely, poignant post.


  12. This really is quite amazing, Sue. I didn’t know daffodils made their presence know before the beginning of the winter.


  13. Reblogged this on Loleta Abi Author & Book Blogger and commented:
    A thread of life throughout the seasons.

    Liked by 1 person

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