Enchantment Inescapable 9/27/2020

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

I can’t not write about it. I am too intoxicated by it. I am too enamored with it. It is something that I look to with such anticipation that stifling all the words that are aching to flow out of me about it just seems cruel so I shall not do that to myself. I almost used the contraction shan’t in that last sentence. That means my desire to compose on this topic is significant if my thoughts starts to speak in such a dramatic manner. If you have read my work you may have already guessed what the “it” is that has my mind churning with such a profusion of discourse.  Yes, it is autumn. I cannot deny its impact upon every ounce of creativity that calls all the crevices of my brain home.  Everything in me wants to write about it now that its presence is no longer a future aspiration but a present and glorious reality. And so, I shall.

The most practical and traditional of views see this season as one of descent and decay.  To those eyes who hold to this pragmatic vision I beg of you to take a less reasonable look.  If you insist only upon seeing the eventual reality of bare branches against the cold and grey stillness then you have missed the greatest element of the entire time at hand. Those who look at this occasion as a time of decline are thoroughly overlooking what, in my humble opinion, the most festive and celebratory of all times of year.  The whole of nature seems to have committed itself to festivity and revelry with all the components of a giant gala with all the fineries that entails.  Autumn is nothing short of creation’s last hurrah before the solemnity and quiet rest of winter.  I hope, for those of you who do not lavishly fawn affection on this season as I do, that by the end of reading here that perhaps you can look at things through a freshly washed lens.

The stage is so clearly set this time of year.  Instead of drapes of bunting or balloon every branch focuses its energies on metamorphosis into becoming a display worthy of paint or poetry.  Shades meant to lavish themselves upon the eyes and warm the innermost being blossom from all the verdant greens.  Ambers, scarlets, mulberries and golds appear in the most unexpected forest corners and dance with every breeze only to become fluttering confetti when their arboreal ballet is done. Even the sky itself found its languid summer hue not a tone powerful enough so it intensified to a cobalt so deep that if you gaze at it too long you feel almost certain it could pull you in and you could drown in its depths.  We are immersed in decoration and finery fit for a soiree of epic proportion. And if you ponder it, God really had no reason to create such magical scenery. Is there some scientific purpose to colorful leaves? Could winter not have moved in with standard shades of brown?  It seems to me He did this for us.  He gilded creation purely for the joy of it and for us to revel in its splendor.

But our eyes aren’t the only sense that are blessed with the glory of this time of year.  Other senses are graced with dazzling delights.  Fall smells bring warmth and comfort.  If the colors didn’t inspire a deep internal glow then the fragrances of all that is autumn can certainly fit the bill. There is pungent wood smoke and the earthy scent of leaves lilting on the air mingled with the charred sugar of a marshmallow over bonfire flame. Inside hearth and home, from floor to ceiling is filled with the rich savor of chili or stew or perhaps the notes in the air lean sweeter with the warm spice of cider or pie. We are overwhelmed by the aromas.  Fall smells of home and hospitality. The fragrance is intoxicating to the point that once you’ve taken it in you must sit and bask.

All of the outdoors are even kind enough to set the perfect jubilant atmosphere for us giving us temperatures that are crisp in their long awaited respite from summer’s savage heat, but gentle in their coolness as if to brush away your weariness like a mother sweeping the hair from her child’s face.  It breathes new life into your spirit.  The out of doors is just as pleasant and inviting as inside the cozy home. The sun beams pleasant and mild while the nearly constant breezes are soft and refreshing.  The soundtrack for this celebration plays on repeat setting the tone of the days to gracious and mellow.  Any harsh extreme of climate has been hushed to soothing and contented by the rustling murmur of copper coated leaves.

It is fitting that sunset is my favorite time of day.  I have said before that autumn is the sunset of the year and just as dusk is the picturesque end of the day before the slumber of night so too is fall.  Yet this season raises the vibrant showiness of sunset to the nth degree in flamboyance and exultation.  Fall takes every bit of magnificence in every form of experience and rolls it into one multifaceted extravaganza that leaves us in a state of drunkenness with its sights, sounds and smells.  The last great display of pageantry for the year casts its brilliant spell on us leaving us beautifully exhausted in a state of caramel and clove scented euphoria where we are in the perfect comfortable drowsiness for the still sleep of winter.  Autumn weaves this enchantment leaving us ready for dreams of azure skies, painted trees and the aromatic fragrance of the warm embrace of home.