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| Early Autumn in Richmond, ON Photo by Sharon Law |
Cambridge
Dictionary – Someone's autumn years are
the later years of their life, especially after they have stopped working.
~~~
The years between fifty and seventy are
the hardest. You are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not
decrepit enough to turn them down. T.S.
Eliot on Age and Aging, Time Magazine, October 23, 1950.
~~~
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall. F. Scott Fitzgerald
***
I named my
publishing company 3rd Season. The
characters in my novels, for the most part, are 55 Plus—in their autumn years.
I am in the autumn of my years, the third season. Of the three definitions
above, I liken myself to the one by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Life did start all
over again for me when life turned crisp as it became fall.
My
education and career path were in numbers but my passion was always words. As
the autumn of my life approached I felt the need to put away the numbers and
bring out the words. I shed my coat of black and white and burst forth with new
energy in a coat of many colours. The colours of autumn. T.S. Eliot is right
about one thing, I am not decrepit. I will argue with him though about the years
between fifty and seventy (or more) being the hardest. I love these years and I
write about characters who love these years also. They are enjoying the crispness of fall, the invigorating freshness in the air, the vitality of the colours. Life is starting all over again for them and for me.
I consider
myself retired as in no longer working. I am a writer. Writing is allowing me to be
Peter Pan flying off to Neverland whenever I choose. Like him, I’m never going
to grow old. I’m never going to give up this colourful season called autumn. And
even though I’m into full bloom—red, gold, rust and yellow, I feel like I am
still in the blush of autumn, one bright flair of colour in summer's path of green.
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