early autumnal days

I don't know about you, but the approach of autumn and winter excites me. These are my two favorite seasons because not only do I get to wear cozy outfits but colors burst forth in vibrant hues that summer or spring cannot be compared to. Around August is when goldenrod starts to bloom, often lasting until the end of October. The weather teases us terribly with insufferably warm days to brisk mornings and evenings, giving us a taste of what is to come. Maple trees are the first to turn; bright red against the greens of the rest of the forest and with that, they are usually the first gone as well. Golds and orange follow close behind. Apples are ready to pick; pumpkins are finishing growing and potatoes will soon be ready to harvest from the garden. Warm spices come into play as well; cloves and cinnamon and nutmeg wait in pantries to be mixed into baked goods or a morning cup of joe. 

Autumn is the time when I find myself pulling out poetry books and reading them. I know people have cozy autumnal novels they enjoy reading, but for me, poetry seems to be just right. I do however, find myself pulling from the shelf The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare (my top favorite book series), as I first read the books in autumn, thus establishing a core memory around those beloved books and autumn. 

I enjoy writing poetry, too, from personal reflections, to nature observations, and queer thoughts. A couple years ago, while camping in the mountains in October, I penned some words about escaping. I will leave those thoughts at the end of this post for your enjoyment. 

I am also far more likely and inspired to write during the autumn and winter seasons than any other time. Again, it is cozy weather. Cold weather. The ability to sit by a fire, light a candle, and wrap oneself in a favorite sweater without sweating at my desk to write cannot be compared to anything else. The days are also shorter, which, contrary to popular opinion, I immensely enjoy. Shorter days make sense in my brain: dawn actually comes in the morning and evening actually comes when it is supposed to (not starting to get dark at 8:30-9pm like in summertime!!!). I did revisions for SONG OF THE MOON earlier this year, took a break from it, sent it to people, revised it some more, sent it to my editor, revised it AGAIN, and resubmitted it to my editor for the final time. I thought for sure I'd publish it this year, but alas, 2026 is looking more likely when it will be published. In the mean time, I have other writing projects I've been working on that I am slightly excited about. 

I hope you all enjoy a slow, peaceful transition into autumn. The world we live in is full of chaos, war, and violence. For people like me, we need nature to ground ourselves in what really matters. We need to cling to people or our faith to remember what it means to truly live. I strongly encourage you to go outside and inhale deeply, that brisk autumnal breeze. Or relax on a cool evening around a bonfire, a mug of cider in your hands. Appreciate the delightful taste of pumpkin spice. Remember the people around you are your community; foster it, cherish it. Seek peace and pursue it, my friends. C'est la vie. 

escape | erin nichole

For as long as I can remember I’ve always wanted to escape. 

To head for the mountains and disappear among the great fiery maples, golden birches, and orange oaks. 

Every time I take a breath 

of the atmosphere filled with firewood smoke

watch the grayish blue mist gathering amongst the foothills, I’d think, yes, this place is for me. 

After all, the deeper I allow my thoughts to spiral, the more I convince myself no one will care if I go. 

If I disappear. 

Then creation

softly whispers to me

Reminding me that

They are not alone. 

Trees have forests. Foxes and groundhogs burrow together. Mountains have streams and creeks and rivers cutting between them. 

The earth has never been alone and neither were we when the Creator made us in his image. 

But the mountains…

I stretch out my hand to feel the moss clinging to a tree. Moss the colors of pale jade to deep vibrant green. I close my eyes tight. And I remember. 

I remember two girls 

who became like sisters to me because blood does not equal love. They are my soulmates. I don’t want to leave them.

I remember another girl 

with dark brown eyes and cool tattoos. A girl who exhibits kindness like no other being out there

Who I also love with all my heart. I don’t want to leave her.

And I remember another girl 

with soft moonstone blue eyes and a heart of gold. She means more to me than I can possibly put into words. I don’t want to leave her.

I see more faces with names. Old and new. Faces and names that warm my heart and soul tenfold over.

I open my eyes and breathe. Inhale, exhale that frosty air. 

It’s okay to want to leave for the mountains, I tell myself now. But the catch is: I have to come back.