As the tradition goes, 'to everything, there is a season' - and I find that is also true for my writing. Sometimes, ideas come to me and I write the story straight away, from start to finish. However, other ideas come to me in wisps; hard to grab hold of as they skitter past. I have to coax these, immersing myself in their world by visiting places and handling artifacts to draw them out.
Sometimes the ideas need composting time. I write them in fits and bursts, writing furiously for several weeks and then petering out. Although the physical writing stops, the composting time does not. I find myself thinking about the story, and rolling ideas about under my tongue, testing the texture and looking for the sweetness.
Some stories just take time to come to fruit. I have just entered the second draft stage for a story like that. At first I wrote furiously. Then I spent composting time and the story changed radically. It was no longer the story I had planned - but it was stronger for that.
Now, despite the blazing days of sunshine we are enjoying, I am watching the leaves start to turn and finishing my story. I'm harvesting apples from the garden and my story at the same time. Themes are strengthening; characters are being honed and sub plots woven.
As the days grow colder and we head into autumn, this story's season has arrived.