Hey you. Don’t these woods have this strange, dreamy, whimsical allure? The season between Spring and Autumn has an odd eccentricity to it. This strange electricity permeates, and the roots, leaves, and branches ask us to lose ourselves but hold back like the ripeness which isn’t fully ripe yet, like the air that’s pungent but still crisp, raw and fresh. This season has both nymphs and demons; this season has both Leprechauns and Goblins; this season both pushes us into muddy paths and enables us to choose our well-tarred roads; this season stands between the coming nihilism and the fighting idealism; this season gives us shelter in caves where belief is the only defense against the downpour – rat ta tat rat tat rat, Crack! Help me, God! But also makes faith transform all that we see into something mystical and surreal – not gaudy landscapes, but a New Jerusalem beautiful. This season gives us a philosophical, introspective impressionistic landscape in the eyes of a mad Van Gogh, and a rough, raw, raving but ravishing expressionism in the eyes of a tortured Romantic. Hey, you, this season is a Bipolar Mixed Episode; it’s ugly-beautiful like a pug, and don’t we feel like giving up on it because it’s so infuriatingly, infectiously, pretty prepossessing? But also cling on because of some caffeinated lust for life; some, ‘Until I finish this can of Monster and read The Catcher in the Rye in one go!’ Slightly uppity, sickeningly bubbly, fickle-minded fidgety thing psychologically askew psycho-therapists call ‘sanity’? Hey, you, this season stands between a petty predisposition to a panicky Plunk! And a soft, sweetly given scent that makes us smoochy. Hey, you, this season is life, and hell, it’s filled with seemingly ceaseless strife, but also touching-you-tenderly soft guy or tussling-with-you tough guy ardor to strive. So, hey you, let’s give this crazy season a chance. Whaddya say?