It snowed here on October 26th – the first snowfall of the season and a bit jarring for someone like me. I hadn’t even made the switch from Daylight Savings Time yet and that plunge into darkness is bad enough. I have a “love fall/hate winter” thing going on and I like to put the snow event off till Christmas Eve. Make that dusk on Christmas Eve with somewhere between two and four inches. However, I do have to admit there’s beauty in a frozen rose.
Today it was once again so beautiful that I put my ‘Lil Snookie in the stroller and we went for a long walk with not so much as a jacket. I’m soaking up as many of these gems as God grants me before the actual Midwest Winter Nasties set in, unpack their frosty bags and refuse to leave until April except for brief episodes of hiding just to tease.
Recently, at my local writers group, we were challenged to write, on the fly, a story focusing on this time of year. I thought I’d share mine with you today. The prompt brought to mind the emotions that, for me, change with the season.
A nip in the air tells me that it’s changing time. It happens every autumn. For me, it comes as a strange mix – something between a child-like ecstasy and PTSD.
Soon the leaves will change and the inner voice tells me, so must I.
For ten minutes or so, I’ll lose myself in a world of cozy sweaters, chunky jewelry, scarves, boots and jeans. Then, then some random distraction jerks me out of my reverie, my eye catches the strappy patent leather sandals I’ve left near my chair and I want to hug them and beg, “Please, don’t go!”
Each new fall sign brings another urge. “Plant mums!” it says. “What’s wrong with you? Why are there no pumpkins on your porch?” Yet, next to the front steps, my hot pink petunias wave and I wave back, “Please, don’t go!”
I make huge lists. I need to stock up! How squirrels do this without pen, paper and a phone app or two – I have no idea. Herbs, spices, flours, broths, sauces and a bulk bag of chocolate (lest a blizzard set in) are all put on the list. Three or four stores and two or three days later, the shelves are loaded, the checkbook’s been unloaded and I’m starting to calm as I take my tour of the estate and breathe the air that is now crisp. I might be ready for colored leaves now. That is, until my eyes fall upon the rows of pots clustered in the southern flower bed. I feel an only too familiar pang at the sight of basil, parsley, sage, lemongrass and all the others and I stifle the urge to beg them, “Please! Don’t go!”
How can this glory and this vibrancy bring this sadness? Years of experience have proved that winter will pass, but it will pass slowly.
It seems my moods in autumn vary as much as do the many-colored leaves.
How about you, Dear Reader? Do you make a smooth transition into winter or do you curl up and feel as encrusted and weighed down as a rose that droops beneath the weight of unwelcome change?
Science tells us, most unromantically, that it’s merely the chlorophyll’s exit that enables us to see the sugar in the leaves that up until now it’s kept hidden from view. Perhaps that should serve as a great reminder to us to savor the sweetness of each beautiful autumn day and thrive in this beautiful season.
How do you savor your autumn days? Long walks? Special events? Scenic drives? Leave a comment and share your favorite fall activities.