Reframing Grey

“Grey has no agenda. Grey has the ability, that no other colour has, to make the invisible visible" – Roma Tearne

Welcome to The Autumn Chronicles, a place to shine a light on all the wonder around us as we navigate the seasons. I hope these writings allow you to sit quietly with a cup of something warm and comforting and take a few moments for yourself away from the rush and hurry. If you would like to make sure you get all newsletters directly to your inbox, please subscribe below. Thank you for being here. All photos © The Autumn Chronicles.

As I write this, the world beyond my window is the colour of white noise. This is the UK in February, a time of hushed dormancy and surface stillness, where the world waits expectantly for the full-throated burst of the transition to spring that approaches, creeping towards the threshold.

It feels much more of a challenge to romanticise the small, ordinary moments when faced with the prospect of what seems like interminable bleakness, when the landscape of life feels permanently coloured by an oppressive leaden stain. There is a backnote of melancholy when the light is lacking and the world feels heavy, when it seems an age since you felt the balm of a warm summer sun brush your skin.

Grey is a veil to these early months of every calendar year, where things are not yet what they will become and where paths are still unfolding towards an as-yet-unchartered destination.

But life happens in the details.

Perhaps grey is the only option, the perfect colour for this in-between time allowing us to add our own colour and vibrancy without the risk of being rendered invisible by the competing tones of more dazzling seasons.

Perhaps grey is the mise-en-scène against which we can truly become ourselves, allowing us to transcend our surroundings and providing a neutral, muted backdrop against which we can shine, indelibly and unapologetically.

What if it is the grey that enables us to truly enjoy the light when it returns?

What if it is only during the grey months that we are able to candidly visualise ourselves as we would like to be, without the risk of being blinded by the light of a renascent sun or having our attention diverted by more obvious beauty?

Grey allows us space to pause and reflect. Grey asks us to swaddle ourselves in the soft glow of candlelight and memory, nourishing, replenishing, nurturing ourselves before the light returns and encourages the bloom of new growth. The refracted rays of a summer sun do not hint at cosiness but promise a spotlight, illuminating and exposing us to view.

Grey allows us to mask, to cover, to conceal, biding our time until we are ready to reach our newly formed branches towards the cornflower blue of a transformative spring sky.

Therefore it might be that grey is the unadorned landscape most compelling for this time of year, allowing the mundane to seem otherworldly. My mind is full of plans and hopes for longer days, for spending time outside, barefoot and grounded while the light lingers.

But perhaps it is this time of hibernation, with its layers of slate, pearl, charcoal and silver, which is necessary preparation to truly enjoy the unfurling of the months that lay ahead.

For inspiration on how to soften into the ashen landscape of February, here are some things I will be doing:

• Lighting a candle each evening to illuminate the last of the darkness;

• Going for a walk at lunchtime to try to get a little bit of vitamin D;

• Starting a nature journal as the world slowly begins to wake. I bought this gorgeous one by

  Melissa Harrison
  but you could use any notebook you have lying around or even the Notes app on your phone;

• Embracing dreary weekend afternoons to sit and read or write, allowing myself to prioritise relaxation, creativity and my own inner life during this time of reflection;

• Baking as a meditative, mindful practice; surrendering myself to a recipe and a process, and engaging fully in what I am doing, without distraction or pressure;

• Decluttering wardrobes, cupboards and drawers to prepare myself for the mental shift to warmer days and lighter evenings, and to encourage more streamlined living.

Here are some Substack posts I have been inspired by recently:

Finding Your Creative Sparks by

Emily Male

:

Finding Your Creative Sparks

Week 5 - New Focus by

Katie

:

Week 5 - New focus

Winter Walks and Cozy Podcast Recommendations by

CJ | A Well-Read Tart

:

Winter Walks and Cozy Podcast Recommendations

Tales of Slow & Simple - 06 by

Clementine Barton

:

Tales of Slow & Simple | 06

When The Fog Rolls In by

liz | wsc

:

when the fog rolls in

Redefining Normal by

Thomas Winward

:

Redefining normal

I’d love to know: how has February felt for you so far?

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