On Summer & Vol 10
from the other side of the screen
Editorial Column by Alexa Manning – June 2026
Imagine walking home from work, entirely uphill and thick with humidity. There’s chatter that grows louder as you turn onto your street. The garden in the center of the crescent is full of people who are eating and laughing. Sweaty from the day, you shower before cooking dinner; coming out of the steam you hear live music added to the ambiance. It is folky, reminiscent of a polka.
This was the encore of the day which rang with the bells of Morris dancers walking through town to their performances. The night before was spent at the library, attending the city’s bard competition. In just twenty-four hours, I came into contact with so much whimsy.
“Whimsy” is having a surge in popularity; women on TikTok are sharing their favorite little ways to add whimsy to their lives. For example, saying “pardon me” to the furniture you’ve just bumped into or filling your front garden with little fairy houses. In a time of quick-paced trends of various forms of consumerism, there's a counterculture of whimsy finding a hold.
The bard competition, full of what I like to affectionately call weirdos, emphasised the connection between nature, humanity, and creativity. Morris dancers perform most often at spring and summer festivals, like May Day, and the folk music in the garden speaks for itself. There is a correlation between humans in nature and creativity in humanity.
Now, I have historically dreaded the warmer months. It is documented quite well. England’s southwest, however, has a mildness that allows the seasons of spring and summer to blossom in a unique way. I grew up alongside scorched hills in California where the heat visibly bounced off the pavement. Here, however, I get to see flowers bloom through summer, until autumn claims the land. Grass stays green and I can, at times, enjoy the sunlight’s graze—no longer a burning vise but a kiss to the shoulder.
Hot girl and brat summers of the past are in hibernation—instead we look towards a Weird Girl Summer. Rather than forcing a performance of whimsy, I encourage you to embrace your innate creativity and allow it to flow out of you.
I will be taking a deep-dive into women’s literature of the Middle Ages to complete my MA thesis, but I hope the weirdness of the stories, and the study of them, spills into my everyday life. Maybe enjoying a pint of cider to some tavern music, if anyone is interested in following suit.
This summer I will also be reading submissions for Volume 10, a return to Creation Magazine’s roots in ecofeminism (pun intended). The broad and welcoming theme to the issue is exciting as it opens up the possibilities of what we may discover.
All creativity mimics the fecundity of nature, whether it is intentional or not. When an idea sprouts it is fragile and mutable, never the same from one second to the next. But once it flowers it becomes a member of the ecosystem and a participant in culture, no matter the size of its ripple.
I am most excited for submissions that reside within the intersection between creativity, femininity, and the natural world around us. When I think of opening Vol 10 submissions, I imagine myself at a pond’s edge. I can feel the disturbance from each piece against my shins. I wait for the poem that moves me to the marrow. I hope for one that reaches even deeper.
