Autumn's Pull

There is something compelling and poetically beautiful about the seasons; watching the changes happen outside my window, the freshness of spring, the heat of summer and the cold blanket of winter. But there’s something extra special about Autumn. There is something about this season that moves me deeply. I enjoy the heat of summer; the hammer of the sun, the sweat, the cool lawn and dappled shade of my yard. So when that starts to dissipate it’s noticeable and welcome. And as the heat slows other things start to happen. The nights get cooler and more comfortable. The grass doesn’t grow as fast and the lawn mower comes out less frequently. Sometimes I’m so wrapped up in my life that I forget to look, and then autumn really sneaks up on me. But when I’m thinking about it and watching for it I look up onto the mountain and watch for the first colors to turn. The mountain is changing way before the valley does. The valley is still lost in summer while the mountain has given into fate. Autumn is on its way; the water in the river seems a bit cooler, frost creeps onto the leaves and the trees begin to change for the fall fashion show.

Watching the leaves change both on the mountain from my valley lookout post and in my own yard is incredibly enjoyable. The days are still warm and welcoming, and then one day I’ll wake up to a single yellow birch leaf on my emerald lawn. Its jagged golden edges sitting silently on the dark green blades of grass; it’s a sort of early warning system for those who know, a tea leaf reading that foretells the coming change. It’s that leaf that gets me tuned in to what is going on around me. That single golden sentry has to fall before the perennial war of autumn can begin. And it’s from that moment on, from the first leaf that falls, that I become attuned to my favorite season.

I love the change in temperature in autumn. The cool night and warm days. I love being able to wear a jacket and shorts. The shade is cool while the sun is still warm on my face. I love the heat of summer fighting to stay, while the cold of winter sneaks in at night and leaves little traces of itself before the sun chases it away one more time. And each night the traces increase until the grass and leaves are covered with frost and my breath can be seen when I walk outide in the morning.

One of my favorite smells of autumn is the grape vines on the back fence. The vines slowly succor the grapes all season long, feeding them little by little, water, sun, shade and earth. All the elements combine to create these tiny bombs of purple juice. As the sun looses its fight against the coming winter and the nights grow colder and the days stay warm, it is amazing to smell the ripe grapes on the vine. In the afternoons, in the park, the young football teams gather to practice for their autumn games. I often sit in the afternoon sun, soaking up the warmth and listen to the coaches yell, and the crunch and expelled breath as boys collide and I breath deep of the autumn air. I love breathing in the aroma of grapes on the vine, the warmth of the sun and the ripe fruit, waiting for the first frost to sweeten them is one of the most enjoyable moments of autumn.

As the season progresses I love the smell of leaves turning. The air changes from a fresh green smell, to a wilting brown smell. The leaves begin to change, and then to fall off in cascades of browns, yellows, oranges and reds. In Utah the show isn’t spectacular, the colors are muted, but still no less impressive for trying. The smell of leaves on the lawn, in the street and ditches and kicking through my backyard is incredible. Warmed by the afternoon sun, the fallen leaves entice children to rake and jump, rake and jump. And then with real complaints to be picked up and bagged. The children know that with the leaves going into the bag the warmth is ending, like bagging the sun, the leaves are taking the warmth to the dump and soon, in its place, winter.

More than any other occurrence, more than the leaves changing colors, the warm afternoons, the smell of grapes and the visits to the mountains, Halloween is the best part about autumn; it may be the best part of the year. I love Halloween more than almost any other day in the year. In the midst of the days getting colder and raking the leaves into bags the excitement of Halloween is priceless. I’m not just talking about the kids either. I personally love Halloween. I love it’s silliness, its unmistakable dark side, its encouragement of creativity and creepiness and its momentary loss of sanity. I love everything about Halloween. It makes me sad that some people can’t see Halloween for what it is – a necessary part of our collective psyche. Halloween allows us to become something we’re not, something we want to be, something that we could never be, just for a day. It allows children and adults alike to play a part, be something creepy or scary, and then come back to the real world, like Alice through the rabbit hole, unharmed but wiser for the experience. Halloween allows us to view ourselves through a glass darkly and then to come back to reality. It is as necessary to our understanding of ourselves, both collectively and individually, as Christmas.

Normally the nights are pretty cold by the time Halloween rolls around. Trick or treaters usually have to bundle up to go out on Halloween around here and I see Halloween in the same way as the Ancients – it’s a doorway of sorts. Halloween is the end of the year for me, it takes me from the warmth and brightness of summer to the chill winds of winter. Halloween is bittersweet for me, it’s the end of autumn smells and activities, all the things I love. But Halloween is also a fantastically fun night of games, pranks, imagination and spookiness. I love it.

Once Halloween is over I know my days are limited. The mornings are regularly cold, frost is more common than not on the windshield of my car, and the days are noticeably shorter. Darkness is creeping in on my long, hot days of summer. I know it’s only a matter of time until the snows come. I know that soon I will have to wear a coat every day. And I know that there is work to be done. The beautiful golden carpet of leaves on my lawn have turned brown and crunchy and cannot be left there. I know that garden plants that brought be ripe tomatoes and fresh spinach need to be cut down and tilled under. I know that faucets that bring fresh clear water during the summer need to be wrapped tightly. And I know that chairs and tables sat under the shade of the big tree out back, filled with friends and family, laughing in the shade, won’t be of any use for the next several months and so must be stored and sheltered from the coming ravages of winter. I know that winter is on its way.

I guess that’s the real beauty of autumn, it’s bittersweet. It is the perfect relief from summer’s heat but at the cost of winters cold. It reminds me that everything around me is alive, but at the cost of it dieing. I appreciate the spell autumn puts on me because it’s on the border of life. It’s at the borders we see things for what they truly are. The grass is actually greener on the summer side of the autumn fence, but its all about change, it’s all about the cycles of life. And like Halloween, autumn reminds us that everything has its opposite. To revel in the summer heat and railing against winters pain is childish. We must appreciate one to understand the other. Without the exquisite heat of summer we would never really understand how cold we really were. Without the bitter chill of the winter wind the summer sun would hold little value. Autumn gives me that perspective. It speaks of things gone by and things yet to come; autumn allows me to watch the world change from my own front porch, and reminds me that all things change.