A Little Competition about Autumn, because I’m missing it.

As much as I’m loving this sudden (albeit tardy) attack of summer sun, I can’t help but feel a little bereft of our season of much-anticipated mellow fruitfulness. I LOVE Autumn, and I’m more than a little excited about its arrival. In a wishful, misguided attempt to speed it on its misty way, I thought I’d launch a competition in its honour. It is supposed the Autumn term, after all.

To enter:

Click on the links below. They lead to two (very different) texts, which offer two (not so different) opinions of Autumn.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/sep/11/eva-wiseman-summer-autumn

http://www.bartleby.com/101/627.html

What is your opinion of Autumn?

Write no more than 500 words.

You can write anything you like – a poem, an article, a short story…

Hand in your entry to me, or post it in a comment below.

The deadline for all entries is 3:20 p.m. on Friday 14th October.

Credits for all entries.

The top 3 entries will be awarded book vouchers.

GO.

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2 thoughts on “A Little Competition about Autumn, because I’m missing it.

  1. My tribute to English Lit AS:

    The Redling Squirrel

    The leaves rolled out in a rampant red
    Scrolling across my path
    The trees gasped; the loss of their flesh
    Stripped them of what strength they had

    I felt sympathy, I took off my coat
    And felt empathy. The air swirled around my legs
    Tried pulling me down like an ungrateful baby
    Then it pinned the leaves to the croaking floor.

    What is left of the summer and sky?
    The clouds shield the sun from our desperate gaze
    The light is hoarded; only let out in whimsical peeks
    Still shadows turn obscurely grey; can’t I stop this wintry slide?

    Wait! A butterfly effect,
    Whips my hair, the trees rear in alarm
    Then the thing that vanished
    Mischievously reappears
    Head cocked; tail curled; the red glimmer nears

  2. Autumn. It’s that time of the year when almost anything can happen; when summer has officially ended, yet it’s not quite winter. The grand trees lose their clothing and pavements are awash with fiery colours of delicate leaves, crunching underfoot: the sound of Autumn. The sun hides behind thick clouds, sometimes gracing us with its presence. However, the Autumn sun is extremely different to the Summer sun, in that it’s magical and mysterious, leaving us wondering when it will next appear. The refined chill in the air alerts everyone to the coming of winter and with it, cold and long nights. The nights in Autumn coat everyone in their darkness, people seeking refuge, curling up with books and the crackling of a comforting fire. For some, it’s the reminder that the long warm nights of the summer are over, whilst others rejoice in the coming of winter and roasted chestnuts. Autumn is the comforting season, the easy-going season where nothing is expected of us; time seems to move slowly as if we are in a hazy dream, the memories of Summer slowly fading away. Everyone is in the comfort of their homes, the thick jumpers come out and there is an air of merriment surrounding London. Autumn is not Christmas and it’s not the long Summer months; it’s the season where nothing is expected of us.
    Dredheza Maloku

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