After a particularly warm September and October, it’s really starting to really fell like fall (’round these here parts). It could be due to the fact that November has arrived and the darkness has been creepin’ in a bit earlier everyday… but I think if you are from somewhere along the Eastern Seaboard of North America, you will understand when I say, it just feels like it’s that time. By this I mean, there’s an unspoken feeling in the air, (whether you hate winter or despise the cold), telling us that we’ve reached a breaking point, and in a funny way we’re ready for that old crisp autumn feeling to return.
Fall to me is my favorite time of year. I really do think I’m at my best in the Fall. (Really, you don’t want to see me in the spring…. Canadian winters in Ottawa are CRUEL.. I’m like a bear coming out of hibernation).
I love crunchy leaves.
I love not sweating while I walk to work.
I love sweaters and scarves and hats, without having to wear a massive down winter jacket as well.
I love that summer is gone.
I love the colours.
At this time of year, the spectrum of orange is heavenly, the reds are on Fire and I find it’s like I’m looking at the world with fresh eyes, like everything I’ve been looking at all summer – trees, flowers, side-walks, the sky – they are all suddenly crisp and new again.
This is of course ironic, because far from new, the world around us is dying a slow and drawn-out death.
I like to laugh at the joke mother nature is playing on us; she has made death beautiful. This is something humans, since the dawn of time, have struggled to accept, and she places it on display, in grandeur and glory, right in front of our eyes. Any yet this doesn’t feel like mockery, quite the opposite, it feels like a reassurance. It is the final symphony – complete with symbol crashes, crescendos and diminuendos which fade out as the light gets dimmer and the final curtain closes.
Fall is the grim reaper of the seasons, the con artist of the natural world. We’re led to believe that colder nights, and darker mornings don’t actually mean that an imminent winter is creeping in slowly, but rather we give a standing ovation for the magnificence of it all, and we truly are led to believe that everything is beautiful and new again.
When in fact it’s quite the opposite! Once that curtain closes, it won’t be opening again for a long time. I’m led to believe that if Fall didn’t exist as it does, (if it wasn’t all the beauty and the smells and the freedom from the heat of the summer), we would be inclined to believe that this world was a cruel and dark place, with no sense of humor, hope or faith.
It’s a miracle really, how the world has set itself up in this manner. It’s a natural trust mechanism; a lesson that everything which is new will one one day be old; a message that everything which dies will return one day again; and lastly that at the end of the seasons really is a beautiful final chorus….