Every year autumn’s brilliance catches me by surprise—trees ablaze in fiery and provocative hues. Air that was just now hot and muggy, in a swift pass of days grows breezy and cool.
Fall is the season for sweaters and slippers and sipping tea. Hands seek warmth in pockets. Bare arms take refuge in sleeves.
The sun’s strength is mitigated by distance. It warms, but doesn’t overheat. Take a deep breath and be invigorated. Hear the satisfying crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet.
As new colors cover the tree line, boots are donned and scarves are wrapped around necks. Frozen treats become less and less desired now that snowy days are on deck.
Hair that once hung heavy in humidity, flaps wildly in the wind. Even the sky changes color—more white has been mixed in.
Sunset presses earlier and earlier upon the day. Dawn comes fashionably late. Darkness expands to take more time. More of life is lived under an artificial light.
Autumn is a season of oscillations. It wears weather like two faces. Some days evoke memories of summer—bright and full of warmth. Others are harbingers of winter—biting cold and harsh.
Fall is a period of unique beauty—of depth and breadth and volatility. Trees surrender their greenery to new, yet temporary, hues. Leaves leave branches bald and barren. Blankets are returned to use.
Autumn is the season of the hearth—coming in and finding warmth. As a chill saturates the air and affects the lungs, thoughts turn to family and Thanksgiving, to going home, harvesting memories, and reaping love.