Season of Crows

a childhood in India, 1956-1972

Autumn Draws Near

1 Comment

Autumn Draws Near

Just as you turn the Autumnal Equinox, a slight but perceptible chill creeps into the air in the early morning and late in the evening. Wrought-iron railings turn cold to the touch; dark-green leaves of tropical hibiscus and night jasmine go limp and wet with evening moisture, a faint wreath of cloud wisps the night moon above the crumbling teeth of the Sierra de Mijas, whose sprawl cannot be discerned beyond the mist so that the wasteland behind the houses appears as though it were lowland. Earth-coloured terrace tiles turn faintly wet and a wind sighs, gathers the trees in its muscular embrace, and strips boughs of brittle twigs and dying leaves and strews them about. You can, in the approaching twilight, imagine that things are not entirely as they seemed a few hours ago. The turning season and the wandering hour opens a door into a magic place where the metaphorical becomes literal. As you muse on the approach of autumnal restlessness, you imagine Autumn as one of the ancient gods, a giant that treads with a great foot across the human landscape, bigger than all the houses and pushing aside the weeping trees in its determined march towards a still distant winter. – Finger painting on miniature digital screen.


Author: Arjun_L_Sen

Born in India in 1956. Grew up in London, Calcutta (Kolkata) and Delhi. Studied history at university in Delhi and completed a sub-doctoral research degree in Social Anthropology at Oxford University. Interested in creative writing, art and animal rights. Art website at Has lived in Spain since 2003.

One thought on “Autumn Draws Near

  1. Thank you, Mark, for appreciating my work.

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