Autumn’s golden gown. A spectacular, vibrant vista. Rich reds and russets, rustic revelry, dancing leaves, nature drifting into slumber. Amid this mesmerising season of texture and tone, bejewelled Mother Nature wears her coat of many colours and whispers to me in loving lilt. “As you hurtle into colder climes, give some time for self-reflection, my friend. Another year-end draws near.”  

As a child, I fell head over heels with the miracle of autumn. Was it the treasure chest of chestnuts and conkers tumbling from majestic trees? Or the bubbling excitement of Halloween, jangling pennies in my pocket while clutching a carved swede lantern wearing a ghoulish face? Or could it be the anticipation of bonfire night? Toasting pink and white marshmallows. Cooking potatoes in their jackets as flames flickered and crackled. Standing open-mouthed watching rainbow fireworks light the night sky. Ah! The beauty of innocence. The wonder of being a kid.

Now, I am older, brimful of a wealth of knowledge from thousands of yesterdays, and the golden autumn season means so much more. Yes, it still charms, still bewitches, but differently. It’s much more than a season of frolics and frivolity. Not just a frantic gateway to the magical mayhem of glittery, gift-laden Christmastime.

How can I not revere the kaleidoscopic world that descends as autumn unfolds? The vivid hue that holds me spellbound as I marvel at the mist and mellow panorama. How can I disrespect Mother Nature’s incredible work? I am deeply grateful. For all that I am. All that I see. All that I have. Grateful to be part of a season that never fails to ignite boundless joy. More so since my MS diagnosis, prompting a stronger appetite for research that will never wane. Ah! The wonder of learning. The beauty of being alive.

I still have moments of childlike fancies. Of lanterns and bonfires and dark, starry nights. Still capture the smells and sounds that evoke a mountain of memories, some deliriously happy, some bittersweet.

As the temperature drops and the air bites, I long to embrace all the pleasures of autumn and what it brings. Wrapping up in warmer clothes. Donning one of my ever-growing stack of hats. Spending time in the kitchen cooking up healthy stews and casseroles, or ladling generous portions of steaming soup into waiting bowls. And don’t forget good company, nor giggles by the gallon.

And what about writing? Funny how this season of sumptuous shades conjures up a swirl of imagination. Quirky plots. Quirkier characters. Comical situations. Banter by the bucketload. How gratifying to head off into quaint, rural villages, meeting animals with attitude and devilishly devious villains. How wonderful to sip a cornucopia of coffees brewed by the barista in Beans & Leaves. Stroll into woodland to hug a few trees. Or watch the chief inspector’s big, bushy eyebrows dancing a quicker than quick quickstep as he investigates dastardly deeds while trying to keep two fervent amateur sleuths at bay. It’s all in a day’s scribing for me, and writing buddy, Ark.

Fatal Fungus, the second instalment in our Windy & Darling Cosy Mystery Series, is jogging along, and we’re on target to release the book circa June 2024. Thirty thousand words in, then another 20K by the end of November, the final 25K by the end of January, and then, all ready for editing. Our designer’s crafting the cover, we’re looking at new promo and marketing ideas for the entire series, and we’re about to record our first audiobook for Deadly Dough. So far, autumn’s been a busy season, and it isn’t ready to slow down yet.

With that in mind, I know it’s time to look at my bustling schedule and weave in rest, quiet, meditation, and mindfulness. Exercise and healthy eating are essential elements. I must not invite stress in but strive to keep it at bay. Easier said when living with a chronic condition, but I manage it well. Most of the time.

The focus is on conserving energy and pampering myself with soothing self-care. To that end, I’ll drown in autumn bathing, and leave the rest to imagination and literary giants.

Thanks for reading. After while.

Wen x

To Autumn (John Keats)


Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun.
Conspiring with him how to load and bless with fruit, the vines that round the thatch-eves run.
To bend with the apples, moss’d cottage-trees, and fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
To swell the gourd, plump the hazel shells
with a sweet kernel, to set budding more.
And still more.
Later flowers for the bees, until they think warm days will never cease.
For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Autumn’s golden gown. A spectacular, vibrant vista. Rich reds and russets, rustic revelry, dancing leaves, nature drifting into slumber. Amid this mesmerising season of texture and tone, bejewelled Mother Nature wears her coat of many colours and whispers to me in loving lilt. “As you hurtle into colder climes, give some time for self-reflection, my friend. Another year-end draws near.”  

As a child, I fell head over heels with the miracle of autumn. Was it the treasure chest of chestnuts and conkers tumbling from majestic trees? Or the bubbling excitement of Halloween, jangling pennies in my pocket while clutching a carved swede lantern wearing a ghoulish face? Or could it be the anticipation of bonfire night? Toasting pink and white marshmallows. Cooking potatoes in their jackets as flames flickered and crackled. Standing open-mouthed watching rainbow fireworks light the night sky. Ah! The beauty of innocence. The wonder of being a kid.

Now, I am older, brimful of a wealth of knowledge from thousands of yesterdays, and the golden autumn season means so much more. Yes, it still charms, still bewitches, but differently. It’s much more than a season of frolics and frivolity. Not just a frantic gateway to the magical mayhem of glittery, gift-laden Christmastime.

How can I not revere the kaleidoscopic world that descends as autumn unfolds? The vivid hue that holds me spellbound as I marvel at the mist and mellow panorama. How can I disrespect Mother Nature’s incredible work? I am deeply grateful. For all that I am. All that I see. All that I have. Grateful to be part of a season that never fails to ignite boundless joy. More so since my MS diagnosis, prompting a stronger appetite for research that will never wane. Ah! The wonder of learning. The beauty of being alive.

I still have moments of childlike fancies. Of lanterns and bonfires and dark, starry nights. Still capture the smells and sounds that evoke a mountain of memories, some deliriously happy, some bittersweet.

As the temperature drops and the air bites, I long to embrace all the pleasures of autumn and what it brings. Wrapping up in warmer clothes. Donning one of my ever-growing stack of hats. Spending time in the kitchen cooking up healthy stews and casseroles, or ladling generous portions of steaming soup into waiting bowls. And don’t forget good company, nor giggles by the gallon.

And what about writing? Funny how this season of sumptuous shades conjures up a swirl of imagination. Quirky plots. Quirkier characters. Comical situations. Banter by the bucketload. How gratifying to head off into quaint, rural villages, meeting animals with attitude and devilishly devious villains. How wonderful to sip a cornucopia of coffees brewed by the barista in Beans & Leaves. Stroll into woodland to hug a few trees. Or watch the chief inspector’s big, bushy eyebrows dancing a quicker than quick quickstep as he investigates dastardly deeds while trying to keep two fervent amateur sleuths at bay. It’s all in a day’s scribing for me, and writing buddy, Ark.

Fatal Fungus, the second instalment in our Windy & Darling Cosy Mystery Series, is jogging along, and we’re on target to release the book circa June 2024. Thirty thousand words in, then another 20K by the end of November, the final 25K by the end of January, and then, all ready for editing. Our designer’s crafting the cover, we’re looking at new promo and marketing ideas for the entire series, and we’re about to record our first audiobook for Deadly Dough. So far, autumn’s been a busy season, and it isn’t ready to slow down yet.

With that in mind, I know it’s time to look at my bustling schedule and weave in rest, quiet, meditation, and mindfulness. Exercise and healthy eating are essential elements. I must not invite stress in but strive to keep it at bay. Easier said when living with a chronic condition, but I manage it well. Most of the time.

The focus is on conserving energy and pampering myself with soothing self-care. To that end, I’ll drown in autumn bathing, and leave the rest to imagination and literary giants.

Thanks for reading. After while.

Wen x

To Autumn (John Keats)


Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun.
Conspiring with him how to load and bless with fruit, the vines that round the thatch-eves run.
To bend with the apples, moss’d cottage-trees, and fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
To swell the gourd, plump the hazel shells
with a sweet kernel, to set budding more.
And still more.
Later flowers for the bees, until they think warm days will never cease.
For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.