Should Autumn Be | Capitalized

Clara smiled. She didn’t correct it. She bought a slice of pumpkin bread instead, and ate it standing in a swirl of leaves, under a sky the color of a capital letter.

Leo looked at her as if she’d just told him the moon wasn’t real. “But Autumn is a name,” he said. “She comes every year. She’s my friend. She brings the crunchy leaves and the cold air and the smell of wet dirt. She’s not a thing. She’s a person.” should autumn be capitalized

The next morning, Clara sat at her desk. She opened the style guide, then closed it. She took out a fresh sheet of paper and wrote a letter to the editor of the grammar column she secretly admired. Clara smiled

She signed her name and, for the first time in her career, added a postscript: Leo looked at her as if she’d just

That night, Clara walked through town. The air was sharp and sweet with woodsmoke. Pumpkins grinned from porches. A wind kicked up a spiral of copper leaves, and for a fleeting second, Clara could almost see a figure there—a tall woman in a russet cloak, her hair made of dried ferns, her laugh the sound of acorns dropping on a tin roof.