This morning, I had to put on tennis shoes and pull on my fleece before I walked the dog. The sky is clear and the sun is like lemon juice dripping between shadows, but there’s a bite to the breeze. On the western horizon, Pikes Peak is drawn in soft puce and faded blue crayon, as if weary of the season, ready for the shawl of snow that’s not far away.
I love the changing season. It’s probably cultural that I am so productive through the autumn and winter months; in the US, we still follow a largely agricultural calendar and start school at harvest time. By the time we’re adults, we’re well trained to put away lazy days and buckle down to hard work.
It’s an exciting period for me. I love opening up the metaphorical boxes of supplies the girls have gathered all summer, at Disney World and Melide, along the suburban parkways where I walk the dog every morning, on lazy afternoon barbeques and from many, many, many days spend lying on the couch reading books. Every box contains the promise of books I might write, essays that are brewing, and the sweetness of uncovering more of my own journey, of finding more answers to that simple and ever-so-profound question most of us ask: who am I, and why am I on this planet?
Mostly what I feel is simple anticipation. My journeys this summer have been outward. The journey through the coming seasons goes inward. I am equally excited about this part: writing the next book, seeing where it takes me.
Does the advent of autumn make you feel energetic, or do you mourn the passing of the long sunny days? What rituals do you have to recognize the changing of the seasons?
I have been lurking here off & on for along time, but I just wanted to say that I love the poetic description of autumn that you painted… I love this time of year too. In TX the sweltering, blistering heat is starting to recede ever-so-slowly & finally I can think, I can breathe, I can work.
The sky is clear and the sun is like lemon juice dripping between shadows, but there’s a bite to the breeze. On the western horizon, Pikes Peak is drawn in soft puce and faded blue crayon, as if weary of the season, ready for the shawl of snow that’s not far away.
Gorgeous language, and a needed hit of inspiration this morning. Thanks, Barbara.
I love autumn. Love the cooler weather, the changing of the leaves–crimson shades here in NY–and being reunited with my coziest sweaters and socks. My favorite ritual involves planning for those first fall meals: stews and soups like minestrone, pasta dishes like macaroni and cheese and lasagna. And going to the local cider mill for cider, fresh apples, donuts, cheese, and pumpkins.
I definitely get that “buckle down and focus” thing in autumn too. I love school, so it’s always been a happy time of year when I’ve been enrolled someplace. But now that you mention it, I’ve never put a ritual in place to mark that energy shift when I’m not in school – something to consider. Always good to give ourselves permission to do our best 😉
I love this, the Season of New Pencils. Time to shed the crazy daze of summer too-much-to-do and settle into a slower routine. I’m all for slowing down and digging in. I don’t have to go outside, I can stay in, put on warm socks and create stuff: soup, stories, (more)socks. I love fall.
I am in love with autumn. It is my absolute favorite season (even over spring) and when it shows up, I breathe a deep sigh of relief. Summers have become increasingly difficult for me over the years as my intolerance to heat grows. This last summer about did me in.
I love everything about autumn, and one thing I’ve noticed is that I’ve started my last two books during autumn – and the setting of each of those books is in autumn, as well. Coincidence? Probably not.
I also am so much more productive during the autumn and winter months. It is my time to get to work because I have so much more energy. I often think I am the opposite of those people who need more light – I think I need less light. I crave cool, rainy, cloudy days. Those days I am at my happiest.
Fall is my favorite time of year. Love the nip of cool air in the morning as I dash outside to let out Mr. Roo and the girls. I’ve been watching the smoke tree start to turn, the leaves going red against the green of the evergreens flanking it.
Geese fly overhead each day encouraging each other as they make the way to the lake for the evening. Reverse and there is my morning of fifty plus geese winging it back to the feeding grounds.
Maybe I best make a ritual for the return of fall. Hmm, need to think on that…and savor the bite in the air tonight.
Autumn is most definitely my favourite time of year. I love the hint of chill early morning and in the evening and there is something about the tone of blue of the sky in autumn that lifts my heart and makes me feel wonderful. Here in NZ, in Auckland anyway, autumn means the end of hot humid nights and sticky uncomfortable days. And the colours of nature! So beautiful!
I soak up every day and, yes, I know I’m definitely far more productive and ready to start new projects come autumn.
Fall is bittersweet. Orange and exciting….yet melancholy too. The light leaks away, the Day of The Dead looms. You feel a pang that those carnival days of mad bud and youthful bloom are over.
Cynthia, beautiful.