I read somewhere the luteal phase in a woman's cycle is a period of grief.
A sort of autumn of the womb. A period of grace for your body to make its peace with what will never be. A banshee of potentiality.
We are adrift, always, on a sea of different selves we might have been. But we do not stand always at a crossroads. This is a very specific time, immediately after the choice is made. It's the only window of time when you are still close enough to the crossroads to glimpse the other path.
It is a period of intense longing. A time for dying. As is fall.
'Brumar' is a popular name for November in my country. Popular, yet archaic. It doesn't surface in ordinary conversation much. It is literally the month of hoar frost. A preparation for inevitable winter.
It has always been a point of fascination for me, the way death feels so similar to life inside my body. The eerie similarities to new life, when it's really only just the winter of another road you'll never take. I liken it to the way nature often seems to mimic a second spring, during the second half of fall. Perhaps only in some places. Here, certainly.
Where, just for a day or two, you think maybe there'll be life here yet.
But there's only ever dead flowers, at the end of the day.
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This is goodbye to fall. My own, as well as the one that has surrounded us. I don't come here often. But this is my entry for the #monomad challenge.
This reminds me of the work of Deborah Paauwe. I saw her work "The Crying Room" in a gallery many years ago. It's stayed with me.
Goodbye to fall. Let it come back again to inspire you once more.
Ohh I like these. Thank you, I didn't know about her. I know precious little about photography and its history, so it's appreciated. 🤗
It’s a powerful reminder that our bodies and our lives move through their own Novembers, full of loss, potential, and the subtle preparation for whatever comes next.
Btw, I love that little tattoo!
Exactly. And we tend to automate it, to not really think about it and acknowledge how important these things really are. Thanks, love. :)
You'd love the Czech name for the month then - listopad. No hoarfrost; just falling (pád) leaves (list).
This one looks better in color, though.
I liked the name even before I knew what it meant. Thanks for explaining it. And yes, that's a gorgeous shot. :)
Brumar sounds like poetry. And I like the Czech word as well… I’m off now to enjoy this Sunday, I think with a few extra strokes of creativity. Thank you for that!
I'm not saying that my comment relates to the main message of this article. Brumar, that sounds like the French Brumair, the second month of the revolutionary calendar.
Oh, those Romance languages! Brumair really means "Month of Mists" in French. It lasted from October 22 to November 20.
I asked Chat GPT to list the French Revolutionary months with their meanings in Romanian. Interesting for me.
Vendemiaire / „luna recoltei strugurilor“
Brumaire / „luna ceții“
Frimaire / „luna înghețului“
Nivôse / „luna zăpezii“
Pluviôse / „luna ploilor“
Ventôse / „luna vânturilor“
Germinal / „luna germinării“
Floréal / „luna înfloririi“
Prairial / „luna pajiștilor“
Messidor / „luna secerișului“
Thermidor / „luna căldurii“
Fructidor / „luna fructelor“
I'm not saying that my thoughts are completely normal.
It's the first day of summer here. I can't keep up..my body can't that's for sure. Luteal phases and cycles are no longer part of my rhythm. I'm not sure I miss them but I wouldn't mind reversing twenty years. Beautiful photos x
It's maybe a coincidence that I was thinking a lot about the seasons in us last night, and realized that a cold winter can't be just skipped quickly. I like this name brumar, I heard (read) it for the first time here in your post but it immediately and perfectly wrapped the whole ambience your photos brought too. ;)