It could be because I spent most of Fall of 2020 trapped in a hazmat suit and refusing to leave my house due to the plague. It could be that the optics in the simulation have been upped a bit to detract from the highest inflation rates in three decades. Or perhaps my meds have finally started to work. Whatever the case, this season is looking and feeling all types of crisp. Yesterday afternoon was absolutely stunning and if it weren’t for my refusal to wear a coat, I would have stayed in the leaf whirlpool I found myself in when picking up lunch.
I have always loved the fall. I have a sense of kinship with it, as it’s right around my birth day that you start to get the pricklies on your arm and the feeling that summer is coming to a close (P.S. next time you see the Sun, give that girl some love. She worked hard to stock us up with Vitamin D for the hibernation to come). The color scheme that comes with autumn is top tier and the endless supply of pumpkin and cider is just *chef’s kiss.* Yeah I’m basic. Bitch, so what.
I stood on our stoop and inhaled that scent of just-fallen-and-slightly-damp leaves. When do leaves start to get that leafy smell? Is it as their lush greens turn to crunchy orange, or when they softly land and find themselves stuck in a windshield wiper? You’ve seen it: a tree will strip itself entirely of its adornments and look bleak and vulnerable as hell, then get so droopy with snow you think it’ll never recover, only to be reborn again and proudly stand guard for the lively new family that’s nestled in its branches. Trees are so magnificent they communicate with one another (again, let’s take a moment to show appreciation to the dedication to beauty and impeccable attention to detail. Nature is most certainly a Virgo).
Fall is the smell of new notebooks and sharpened pencils. It’s the quieting of the relentless bird outside your window at 3:00AM (you little fucker!) and the shortening of our days. It’s finding a thick layer of frost on your windshield when you’re already running late. It’s a reminder of continuity and cyclicity and that the show must go on. It’s an ode to the incredible work that’s being done by our Earth as it shifts on its axis, playing a will-they-or-won’t-they dance with the Sun.
It is beautiful, and we are blessed with the gift of being spectators.