Hello, I'm new to this forum and have enjoyed reading over your past posts. In some hope that Mr. Bradbury (you all refer to him as Ray like he is a close friend - I wish I had that same confidence) might be reading these I'd like to say this:

As a child I lived across the street from Wrights Park in Tacoma, WA. It's a place where human evils seem to gather. I lived in a victorian house that was a quadruplex and to the other side was a humanly-vacant lot that housed a large family of racoons. On the otherside was a brick tenament that housed an old German woman named Herda who closely guarded her plum tree.

When Autumn arrived each year I bloomed. The antithesis of normal life that thrives on spring I was fed by wind currents, huge red and gold leaves and knew that I was protected by things unseen.

I have always felt close to and held dear my grandmother's stories from Ireland of banshees and leprachauns. Mother smoked like a chimney and I would spend time sitting among her books watching the smoke dragons curl in the shafts of sunlight looking for their faces. Vampires, mummies, creatures of the night did not frighten me - I wanted to join them. To fly. To ride the wind. To see what the tops of clouds look like in moonlight. I could go on and on but will spare the reader.

Then when I was older I read Something Wicked This Way Comes. I was hooked on a writing style that reflected my moods and thoughts. Someone who sees another side to the same world we all live in. Then came Dandelion Wine and I found the Autumn People. I was home.

These are not clearly defined villians. There are no black and white cookie cut outs of what is right or wrong. These are grey smoke dragons that we must search out the true faces of and find where we fit. How far will you walk the tightrope between the summer folk of lemonade and boys in hightop sneakers and autumn folk who wait for dusk and look into dark waters for answers.

We all carry elements of both and more. But after having children and attempting to be a normal wife and mother I am stuck in an eternally sunshine filled world, suffocating. I still have the books to cling to. A tie to my Autumn Child self that sees something more in raindrop patterns on windows and knows that twighlight is the best time to see things we aren't supposed to.

Many thanks Mr. Bradbury.
An Autumn Child

Dear An Autumn Child...thank you for a very descriptive and moving post. Far too often the responsibilities of parenthood and being involved in a marital relationship can sometimes stifle the inner being, the self that you describe that has reached an point in your life where you feel it is not too late to throw off the bonds of time and place and do something to satisfy the inner cravings covered over for so many years.

Welcome to the boards. May your experience here be as fun and exciting as any grand ole streetcar procession!

Thank you for posting such an evocative memoir. You express yourself very well. For a few moments, you swept us away not only to a season, but to a state of mind. One that probably a lot of us here share with you.

Please write more!