Its our natural state to go to ground at this time of year; a bit like the glorious red maple leaves which, in my garden, are being mulched by rain and heavy dew to become next year's earthy sustenance wherever they fall. We go to ground not to vacate ourselves or deplete but to go into our most authentic selves more deeply, refinding the soulful aspect that brighter days tend to chase away with their spotlight and busy-ness. No wonder this time of the year is known as All Souls; for its not just the souls of the dead but all of our spirits that shake off flesh and bone and take off to fly free in all the hours of dreaming and slowing down as days become dark and cold. This hibernation is more akin to the seed that is fuelling itself with new imaginings of what it wants to be next year; the metamorphosis that looks like dying but which is really all about creativity and aspiration.