In the last few weeks, everyone has been going nuts over Fall,1 and for a couple of days on our brief getaway, Mike and I enjoyed lower humidity and a cooler breeze. Ahhhhhhh….
But y’all, we are in the mid-90s down here in the American South, and all I can do is set the thermostat to 68 degrees and pretend those leaves falling outside my frosted-from-the-AC window are floating down in crisp, dry air.
I don’t want pumpkin spice anything right now.2 Or flannel. Or jeans. And I certainly can’t imagine taking children to a pumpkin patch to pick out a couple of perfect gourds or cozying up by a campfire. I admit, I may be a little jealous of those of you who are experiencing the most glorious weather of the year, but it’s just too hot down here. Next week though, we will finally dip into the 50s at night. This is what my weather app tells me, but she is often such a dirty little liar.
We're on the cusp of my favorite time of the year! The hurricane lilies3 have popped up across the yard, and I feel a tingle of excitement that Summer has come to an official close even if it doesn’t feel like it.
I love what Scott Hines wrote:
“Summer is a lovely time…a time of unraveling, of family vacations and days by the pool or beach, of languid baseball games and cookouts and blessedly-late sunsets…in the long light of a late summer evening, I could squint and picture a life without schedules or deadlines or consequences, the kind of life my children happily lived from May to August.
After three months of coming apart, though, I’m ready to put things back together.
That’s what fall represents to me; a welcome reconvening.”4
If you’ve been following along, you know my Summer wasn’t exactly full of languid days, cookouts, or relaxing afternoons by the pool with a little umbrella in some refreshing beverage, but it did feel like three months of coming apart.5 Like Scott, I’m ready to put things back together.
Autumn has always felt like a season of returning to order. In addition to my mom subscribing to and forcing us into “Fall cleaning” rather than “Spring cleaning” (not that we really wanted to do either), it was the season for new: clothes, shoes, haircuts, school supplies, friends, and teachers.
As I typed that I realized September may have been so exciting for me because I’ve always been a curious person. A new school year meant meeting new people and delving into new literature, which superseded any first-day jitters. For my younger self, Fall was the promise of new encounters and fresh ideas.
As an adult, this season still feels like magic to me. Maybe it’s because I met and fell head over heels in love with Mike one fateful October day.6 Or maybe it’s because this is the time of year we travel to the Gulf Coast and spend a few days with extended family at a beach house. It could be the excitement of Mike’s upcoming birthday or LSU football (iykyk). And how can we not be thrilled that the oppressive temperatures start coming down sometime in October? Now that’s exciting!
Fall is as perfect as a season can be. If Autumn were a person, he’d be Jesus. This time of year is dirt and leaves and leather and pencils. It’s toasted marshmallows and cider and apple pie7 and vegetable soup (after the temps drop, of course).
“Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.” - Joe Fox, You’ve Got Mail
But even with the wonder of it all, I know some of you aren’t convinced. My grandmother once told me that Autumn depressed her. Perhaps it was because my 64-year-old grandfather was diagnosed with terminal cancer in the Fall of my freshman year at college, but she said the season made her think of her of death and decay. When she related that to me, I was still a self-absorbed young adult and had never considered someone not liking Fall. But I now know that’s a thing.
This season can evoke sadness for some of you. Truthfully, it sometimes produces the same in me, too. Life’s terrible-awfuls don’t just happen in Winter, Spring, and Summer, and this season can bring painful reminders. I stepped into September one year as a newly divorced woman, free from what I can only call some of the most stressful years of my life. But I also grieved what my kids and I lost—the hope of a healthy, two-parent family. Sometimes I still feel the sting of that when a cool breeze touches my face.
Fall can be an ambiguous time.
A while back, S.E. Reid shared a beautiful poem and thoughts in Autumn Discomfort, and it’s stuck with me as a reminder that what is wonderful to me may not be for another.
“There are those who love fall and cannot wait for it to arrive, and there are those who can’t stand the thought of autumn’s arrival and try to hold out for just a little bit longer. This devotional is for the second group, bless you.”
So if you are not loving this time of the year, I send you a virtual hug and say Come on down to Mississippi where it’s as hot as July!
But for those who are simply giddy with the onset of all things orange and gold and brown (or purple and gold), I send you a virtual high-five and say, Happy Fall, y’all, and GEAUX TIGERS!
Your turn…
Got more to say on the subject? Head over to the comments and tell us all about it!
Until next time, here is an album I love when the trees begin to let go of their leaves…
…and a few Fall-forward posts you may enjoy:
Best of All He Loved the Fall - Jan’s thoughts on changing seasons and a couple of poems.
a transitional menu - Deb gives us some pumpkin spice alternatives.
a change in the air - Kana shares the seasonal transition happening in her corner of the world, which happens to be rural Japan.
Yes, I know MLA and APA both insist that seasons of the year be written in all lowercase, but how can I relegate beloved friends to such insignificance?—I’ll capitalize them for all of my days.
Actually, I don’t want pumpkin spice anything EVER. Not a fan. Give me a good Octoberfest or Harvest Ale.
We call these hurricane lilies because ‘tis the season for us to closely watch the Gulf of Mexico, but they are also known as spider lilies, surprise lilies, and naked ladies. I refuse to tell people I have naked ladies in my yard reminding me that it’s time to watch for hurricanes.
A very big deal for a woman who had given up on the kind of love that’s made up of connection, best-friendship, fireworks, and butterflies.
Hey—y’all eat your pumpkin pie. I’m going with apple.
I am not a person who thrives when it's hot -- and I define "hot" as anything upwards of 75 degrees -- so I am happy when summer is over, or on its way out. I do love fall, but it's not so much fall as it is "not-summer," so I also love winter and spring. (Okay, I REALLY love winter, but that's more of a survival mechanism, native Wisconsinite as I am.)
Beautifully written. I'm trying to embrace fall more. It's been a season of sorrow in the past, but there's so much to enjoy, too. As with many things about this life, I suppose. :)