There is a Season

2 Dec

Below is my 100 word (plus a bit) story in response to this weeks photo prompt from Madison Woods for #FridayFictioneers.  (The phot is shown below.) Thanks for reading and commenting. Be sure to check out the other stories  at and don’t forget to post your own.

Last year deep in his winter, weakened by the effort of holding on through eighty-five turns round the sun, my father at last let go and was gone from us. When we buried him beneath the bare trees that grace our valley, my son, Scott, stood tall and straight beside his new wife as tears glistened in his eyes.

They’ve had their first child since then and named him after Alan. Scott’s long summer is just beginning; all around him life bursts forth in green riot and he sees only his season.

I write to tell him I love him.

Later he’ll understand as he walks the path I now tread beneath fall’s rustling eloquence.

27 Responses to “There is a Season”

  1. Craig Towsley December 2, 2011 at 1:44 pm #

    Moving Doug. “Green riot” is my favourite line of the day.

    • dmmacilroy December 2, 2011 at 1:50 pm #

      Thanks Craig,

      “Huh?” is my favorite line of the day.



      • John Wiswell December 2, 2011 at 3:55 pm #

        Ha! Smiled at your favorite line of the day. “Green riot” is also a nice one. I didn’t grasp a narrative arc to the piece, but enjoyed the constellation of events it charts.

  2. susielindau December 2, 2011 at 1:52 pm #

    I love this – Scott’s long summer is just beginning; all around him life bursts forth in green riot and he sees only his season.
    It is such a great metaphor! Well done!

    • dmmacilroy December 2, 2011 at 1:58 pm #

      Dear Susie,

      Thank you so much for reading and for your kind comment. I sometimes feel ‘in my season” that my words are to little, too late. That feeling suffused There is a Season.

      I really do need some of what Katrina drank!



  3. Russell December 2, 2011 at 2:00 pm #

    Sounds like it’s straight from Ecclesiastes, chapter 3. My father died a few years back one fall day, so I can really relate to this story. My children are near thirty and wrapped up in the summer of life. Connie and I are not ready to ride off into the sunset yet, but the chill of fall has put plenty of frost on the roof.

    I really enjoyed it, Doug. Great analogy.

    • dmmacilroy December 2, 2011 at 2:08 pm #

      Dear Russell,

      I was afraid no one would be able to sort out the story, no less relate to it. I write to tell my son I love him.

      Thanks so much for reading, Russell. No sunset riding for me either. I’ll keep my eye out for your post.



  4. Jan Morrill December 2, 2011 at 2:11 pm #

    Breathtaking analogies, Doug. I often compare life to the seasons. And isn’t fall one of the most beautiful? 🙂

    • dmmacilroy December 2, 2011 at 2:20 pm #

      Dear Jan,

      You are right about fall. It is the one thing I miss most about the mainland. My favorite season and yet I never see it. Good thing I grew up in New jersey. Lots of memories of leaves turning and falling.

      Thank you so much for reading.



  5. Lindaura Glamoura December 2, 2011 at 2:13 pm #

    Pretty shockingly poetical and also very personal. That is pretty brave of you, Doug.
    Lovely, from Lindaura

    • dmmacilroy December 2, 2011 at 2:24 pm #

      Dear Lindaura,

      Thanks for reading There is a Season and for taking the time to comment. One thing about fall is that I find I must cut to the chase in my writing. Never know when I’ll be tasked with starting over.



  6. Siobhan Muir December 2, 2011 at 3:39 pm #

    Isn’t it the truth? When we’re young and new, so is the world, but the wisdom and understanding comes with time. Well written, Doug. 🙂

    • dmmacilroy December 2, 2011 at 3:52 pm #

      Thank you, Siobahn,

      Ever seen that old german saying written on various household implements or stitched into samplers? “We grow too soon old and too late smart.”

      As long as my son reads this one day, I’ll be happy.



  7. Madison Woods December 2, 2011 at 5:04 pm #

    Well, now it was my comment that got lost somewhere. If it shows up later, just delete it.

    I love how you’ve given a connection to the beginning and the end as never ending. An endless cycle of life dropping off and being carried forward to continue.

    Ever notice how far you’ve come since that ‘damn the torpedos’ post?

  8. elmowrites December 2, 2011 at 6:36 pm #

    Hi Doug,
    This is a beautiful analogy and there are some really poetic phrases in there, like the “green riot” and the very last few words.
    If I might be so bold as to suggest this, I think you could tighten it up in the middle, spend a little less time by the graveside, so that the metaphor is even brighter, but that’s just my view. I thought the use of the seasons and even the fact that you didn’t mention spring (except through implication), came together well.


    • dmmacilroy December 2, 2011 at 7:21 pm #

      Hi Elmo,

      Couple of things, most important first. Thank you very much for reading.

      Next is that I just got off the mountain after a long four night shift so I’m hammered and may not express myself well when I say this, but, here goes. I very much appreciate any constructive criticism you choose to give me at any and all times. This is such a good learning experience. Add to that the fact that if I ever stop being open to feedback I think it will signal the end for me, of growth as a writer at the very least. So thanks. I’m going to go to sleep now and revisit your comment with regard to your suggestion after my mind gets the rest it so desperately craves.

      Looking forward to talking with you about it and things. Will also go through the feed and look for your story, too.

      Aloha and goodnight,


  9. Susan Wenzel (@SusanWenzel) December 2, 2011 at 11:59 pm #

    I love the correlation between the seasons and the stages of life. I’d like to think I am in my late summer – Indian Summer, if you will. Ha!

  10. B.B.Darlington December 3, 2011 at 5:31 am #

    This is beautiful and very, very moving.

    • dmmacilroy December 3, 2011 at 6:33 am #

      Thank you very kindly for reading and taking the time to comment. Nice to meet you, too. Just followed your blog and read a great deal there. How often do you write?



      • B.B.Darlington December 3, 2011 at 9:54 am #

        Thanks for visiting 🙂 I write about 4 short stories a week and am working on something much bigger too.
        I look forward to more from you!

  11. Carlos Repuesto de la Tabla December 3, 2011 at 11:22 pm #

    Very nicely done, Doug, a little narrative that encapsulates generations and the meaning of the seasons.

    • dmmacilroy December 4, 2011 at 3:53 am #

      Thanks Carlos,

      For reading and commenting. I hope to read more of your work here.



  12. Caely December 7, 2011 at 9:41 pm #

    Dear D,

    my previous comment seem to have gotten lost on the interwebs, and my memory fails to retrieve it.

    Lovely story, especially the word eloquence. I think it’s my favorite word now.


    • dmmacilroy December 7, 2011 at 10:01 pm #

      Hi Caely,

      Thanks for dropping in and re-commenting. Eloquence is a great word, isn’t it. I aim for it in my writing and now and again hit the target.

      Did you get Madison’s new photo prompt? I return to the summit for four days tonight. Will be writing from up there, cold and oxygen starved.

      I love hearing from you, C.



  13. Jeannie March 4, 2012 at 12:42 am #

    the circle of life…and it continues on. I love how you used nature to tell the story here:

    eighty-five turns around the sun
    Scott’s long summer
    life bursts forth in green riot and he sees only his season
    the path I now tread beneath fall’s rustling eloquence

    all beautifully stated.

    I’m sorry you’ve lost your Dad. I’ve lost mine too. We live on and try to do them honor in the living.

    PS.–one of my sons is a David Scott–:)

    I enjoyed this Doug. Oh yes, you are a softie…

  14. rochellewisoff November 18, 2013 at 11:57 pm #

    Dear Doug,

    This wouldn’t have had the same impact on me if I’d read it two years ago when you wrote it. Guess the child will have to be Alanette. 😉 Nonetheless, it’s one of those pieces that, as you would say, is so deep that the less I say the better. ILYVM



    • dmmacilroy November 19, 2013 at 3:30 am #

      Dear Rochelle,

      Clairvoyant? Probably not. Just in tune with life more so than in my youth.

      Thank you for reading and commenting so far past this story’s prime.



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