The lavishness of autumn is a sumptuous feast for the senses. You can feel the heaviness of the air, carrying with it the weight of expectation. It’s damp, it’s cool and it holds the promise of change. The sounds of rustling leaves, the sleepy drone of rainfall and the hissing of wet car tires down dampened streets.
The fragrance of wet earth, the freshly fallen moist leaves and the tree trunks darkened from the rain, releasing their woody scent.
Then there’s the light. Diffused, with golden amber tones, filtered through leaves, still tentatively attached to shivering branches above us. Mid-autumn’s glow does not stay with us long. Blink twice and it starts to fade. Blink again and it’s gone, replaced by winter’s emphatic harshness.
Sometimes I feel empathetic with those leaves that still cling to their limbs, that still contain a bit of green, faded but still there. Fall reminds me of the greenness of childhood that gradually dissipates, but maybe not completely. Even as adults we can still feel traces of the anticipation of holidays to come, a faded green remnant from childhood. Yeah, it’s weathered, gone a bit amber, but it’s still there.
In spite of endless tragic news accounts, of health or financial and other personal concerns, right in the midst of all of those things in life that pretend to be oh-so-important, comes the sumptuousness of autumn. A little reminder that while change is part of life, there are still some happy constants.
