By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
This week brought the Autumnal Equinox.
That is mostly thought of as a weather phenomenon, but around these parts, the weather doesn’t really change when it occurs, so that isn’t so much what it is here.
And since the weather doesn’t make any sort of seasonally appropriate adjustments for quite a while longer, I want to write this to think about the season in a way that I haven’t before. I want to really evaluate why I feel about it the way I do.
Now, don’t get concerned. I know I have written about my passionate love affair with Autumn ad nauseum, so don’t think that this is going to be that. I mean, yes, Fall will be discussed, but my hope is to do so in a way that I haven’t before.
It’s still hot, but that isn’t a new development because September in the South, despite the movements of the sun and earth every year, is still very much summer. It may be summer’s ever-so-slightly-less-intense version, but still very definitely summer. But the thing is, I know that fall—the true, crisp, cool fall—is coming. And honestly, that is such a captivating thought to me that I find it difficult to adequately express.
But the question at hand is, why? Why am I so intoxicated by this season?
Of course, there are the colors. Anyone who has any appreciation for color in the slightest would have a hard time not seeing the value in autumn foliage. You don’t have to wait for blooms like you do in the spring. Leaves do all the color heavy lifting. One look out over painted ridges of hills or a single drive through a forest road dropping scarlet and golden confetti is enough to make an advocate out of anyone.
And yes, I prefer cooler weather. As I will tell anyone who will listen, I most assuredly look better and am more comfortable in more clothes, not less. Cooler weather assists with that situation. So that is certainly a plus about the season. On related notes, I don’t like sweating and ungodly humidity, and I greatly enjoy snuggling in cuddly blankets. This season marks the return of these things not causing immediate heat stroke or spontaneous combustion. This is all very positive for me.
But other than the easy and the obvious, what is it about this time that appeals to me so? I have really put a lot of thought into this and have come up with an idea or two. They may or may not prove to be interesting, but I’m going to try to really get to the heart of the matter.
While Autumn is actually my busiest time of the year, there is something about it that feels like a slowing. All the things that were lush and growing over the course of the spring and summer begin to still. It’s like the earth is wrapping itself in a warmly hued blanket to tuck itself in.
And I suppose that is exactly what it is.
Everything is preparing for the rest of winter. And we all know the appeal of those moments snuggling in a warm bed or even just amongst cushions and blankets on a cozy couch for a doze. Those moments feel like what sipping hot chocolate or mulled cider tastes like. They incite sentiments that smell like apples and spices, and the fragrance of ovens filled with cookie sheets and loaf pans full of decadence.
Though my schedule may be packed with activity, I can still feel it; that slowing down. And despite plans and events, something on the inside relaxes just a bit.
And suddenly, all the things that are swirling around aren’t so much chaos and frenzy. They feel more like those rainbows of leaves fluttering around you. Yes, it is still a lot. But something about it feels different.
It doesn’t feel like being frantic to get tasks accomplished. It feels like the gleeful journey to bed to snuggle into covers with a good book and a warm mug. Sure, before you get there, there will be teeth to brush, faces to wash, and all sorts of other little domestic business to tend.
But the mound of soft, inviting repose awaits.
And that is Autumn to me: a journey filled with many engagements, but every single one is a step on a happy expedition that leads to something that feels inexplicably and gloriously like the warmth and welcome of home.
And if Autumn feels like that, what’s not to love?
