“There is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves”
As I briefly explained in my last post, I like autumn a lot. While I do enjoy the warmth and freedom and long days of summer, and often regret its end, come September I am grateful for the comfort of autumn.
The ever-increasing crispness in the air makes me excited to wear thick jumpers and makes the warmth of home all the more noticeable. I like going out and feeling the chill of the wind on my bare cheeks, the warmth of my body when it’s bundled up in coats and scarves that I don’t quite need yet, the way my breath steams, just ever so slightly, in front of me in the morning, signalling the approach of winter. I like the autumn light and the way it shines through the leaves on the trees, the way it dapples onto the pavement as I walk, giving everything a faint golden glow, the way it shines into the house and lights up the rooms and shimmers on the walls opposite windows. The crunch of leaves underfoot is both comforting and satisfying and I’m thankful we haven’t had too much rain to ruin that small joy. I like the way the leaves pool up into the gaps outside – down the side of the pavement, and underneath the trees – to create a cascade of colour to brighten up even the drabbest of areas. I like burning candles and reading bundled up in a blanket, and this joy is increased tenfold when it rains. I like sitting inside and hearing it hit the window, watching it run down the glass in streaming rivers. I like the smell of it when it has stopped, and the way the whole world feels new and fresh for that brief moment. I like the way everything seems that little bit more magical, the way everything seems special and important, and how, on a good day, I feel capable of anything.
Walking through the forest on an autumn day is truly one of the biggest gratifications I have found, and in those moments when I have walked far enough in that the rumble of cars is a distant echo, when I am engulfed by trees on all sides, I truly feel at peace. In those moments when the world seems at its absolute quietest, I would be content to stay, surrounded by that bright mass of orange, forever.