Fall in Love with Fall

Autumn can be very depressing for a lot of people. My husband, for example, practically bursts into tears on July 4th. Granted he is extremely patriotic, so if you know him, you wouldn't give it a second thought. You'd just hand him a tissue. But I know under that red, white and blue glow is actually a 10 year boy who is already counting the hours down to the first day of school. We have a saying in my house, and I hear it every year, on or around July 5th. "S-I-O" my husband bellows from the upstairs bathroom. Summer is Over. And I start laughing, actually, cackling is a better description. Because my annual response to this dramatic pronouncement of the death of the summer season is "Good! Can't wait for Fall!" Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike summer completely. I've learned to make my peace with its shamelessly hot, sticky weather, it's pronouncement of "relax, but you'll miss everything if you do" mixed messages, it's long and seemingly endless days of outdoor activity (also aptly described as indentured servitude to the Gardening Gods), and it's nauseating need to bring out every inappropriately clad human being within a 400 mile radius...and plop them on whatever beach I happen to be lounging (not really, with young children on the beach, you're in an upright position most of the time and your eyes almost unblinkingly follow every move).

Over the years I've learned to enjoy the wonders of the summer season and can sound almost passionate when I talk about the warm, welcoming mornings on the back deck, the variety of local bird calls, the butterfly's and hummingbirds decorating the trees and bushes in the yard, and after all the hard work of the spring, I do gratefully enjoy the fruits of our labors in the garden. I love the exotic flavors of the summer season, like an expertly prepared citrus infused ceviche, or platter of fresh sushi lined up like pink soldiers next to a heap of fresh picked green beans. I do like "the way the smell of a grill sparks up nostalgia" (by Will Smith...rapper/poet) and the feeling of sand under my just-manicured feet. The simple joy of watching our kids play for hours in the surf makes me long for a some-day seaside home. And, I'll admit to giving myself a get-out-of-jail-free card when I just can't find the energy to sit at my desk the entire day...and instead wander out to the garden to see what the chickens are up to.

If you poetically associate the passing of life with the passing of the seasons, as many writers have done beautifully (and way better than I will here) then Autumn as you know signifies the "last hurrah" of youth, so to speak. For many of us here on the east coast, it's that cold realization that the fun is over and it's time to get back to your desk. So it's natural for every sun-worshiper among us (you know who you are) to embrace every last sun-soaked moment as if their very life depended upon it because, well you know, the "end is near".

But I'm not sorry to see summer pass us by. Not in the least. I am a huge Fall enthusiast. Always have been. Since I was very, very young, I looked forward to the cooler temperatures, the crazy weather patterns (warm and mild one day, tempestuous the next) and long displays of gray cumulus clouds that seemingly race each other across the sky at dizzying speeds. It's like watching a time-lapse video...except it's in real time. I love the quality of sleep I get in the fall, too. Those cool nights go a long way ensuring a very sound and comfortable night's sleep under a pile of blankets and comforter. Great for snuggling, too.

The season serves as inspiration for many rituals, and naturally a lot of reminiscing. So here goes...I love the smell of new school shoes! When I was a kid, those highly polished, supple leather upper-soled, caramel brown Buster Browns tortured me for weeks from the confines of their box, nestled underneath a thin layer of crumply white tissue. The smell was positively intoxicating whenever I opened the box to take a peek. I just couldn't wait to put them on and slide recklessly across the slippery hallways on the first day of school. I'd made sure to scuff up the soles a bit on the walk to the bus stop. Nobody wants to fall on their first day.

It's been a long time since I had a new pair of Buster Browns, or any sort of loafer with tassels for that matter. But I can still imagine the way the leather smells when sitting new in the box, and it fills me with that same sweet anticipation of this seasons' delights. Apples, rich stews, fresh-baked breads, hot chocolate, Halloween candy, and stocking up on cedar wood for the Chiminea in the backyard. My fingers are tingly with excitement!! (or maybe that's just the seasonal onset of Raynaud's Syndrome)

When I think about the way that Autumn has always stimulated my creative intelligence, its no surprise to me now that despite my love for this time of year, I still struggle with a low level frustration that gnaws at me daily until I do something about it. I realized at 9:30 last night that every day for the last three weeks I have grappled with a calendar that won't let up. I get up very early every morning and make a promise that today I will sit quietly for just 45 minutes and do what my whole being craves. Write...without interruption, aim or explanation. Write...before the kids get up and break my concentration, crawling into my lap with their sleepy eyes, contagious little giggles and enthusiasm for morning. Every day I want to write. When I do, it's very much like my life depends on it. And it's the one thing that nurtures me beyond every other activity I practice. Not even running can do for me what writing does. What does that mean? Have I missed my calling? Was my High School English teacher right? Should I have pursued a career in writing and never looked back? Well, it's fall so there's no point in dwelling on what wasn't when I consider what still can be.

While I've never been told this, I have a suspicion that a good writer will always be a good writer, but a great writer comes with both talent and life experience. I guess it took me all this time to live and experience a life that would create a natural springboard for writing. It took me a long time to find my narrator...that inner author who I find myself channeling more often these days (thanks to Leslie for validating the author voice), and give into the impulse to just get it all down and worry about form later. Whether I'll ever develop into any kind of published writer has yet to be determined. At this point, I'll settle for being considered a good blogger with potential. Perhaps what I'm finally learning to do in the late summer/early fall of my life is to harness with the same sort of gushing anticipation of what is here right now instead of worrying about what is coming, or what's already passed. I'm not going to just get on with it and embrace my coming winter in life either. Instead of bottom out I'm going to "Autumn Out".

I'm not rushing into the winter season either, though I do love the simple beauty and the nest-like impulses that come with the first snow. Gathering my blankets, pillows, children, mug of hot tea and good books around me, I am aware it's only a matter of time before the snow makes my home feel less like a haven and more like a prison. But the other sad fact is I know it's at least another nine months before my favorite time of year comes back around. So I'm enjoying it right now while it lasts.

Autumn has so much to offer for sights, smells and sensations, almost too many to mention. It is chock-full of the colors that best compliment warm skin tone and hair color...pumpkin, every shade of brown, dark green, deep purple, vibrant golds and black...so, what's not to love? Ever notice how much easier it is to manage your hair in the fall? Humidity is to blame for the majority of my bad hair days in the summer. But the cool, stable temperatures of fall make even the most unruly tendrils behave...and, if not, it's hat season so who cares? And, yes, it's also wine season! Come on, you knew that was coming!! If you've never had it, try a French Bordeaux this year. Or, if you like a lighter style, French Pinot Noir is hitting the shelves and Bin Ends is stocking some of the best the world has to offer. My personal favorites this time of year, when the nights get down right frosty, are the Barolo's and Barbaresco's. These are the big, hearty super Tuscan's that grab you by the ankles, throw you to the mat and tickle your taste buds until you're crying for mercy and begging for another sip. Oh, the majesty and mirth of these gorgeous wines! It's like having sex in a warm, decadent velvet-covered four post bed, while feeding on dark chocolate...except it comes in a bottle and is far less messy.

Now...off to enjoy another gorgeous fall day...I can see the clouds from my desk-side window. Looks like another big cumulus cloud race day up there!

Namaste