How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. – George Burns
For me, Autumn has always been a magical time of change.
As a child, it represented the end of summer vacation and back to school. I would embark on my annual ‘last day of summer’ bike ride. This took place in the early evening before going home and getting ready to start a new school year. I’d ride throughout the surrounding neighborhoods, past the playground, the ballfield, the park, and all the places we spent our youth.
I’d take stock of the memories collected from June, July, and August. This included our annual family vacation and all the days spent swimming, exploring the woods, catching crayfish in the creek, frolicking in warm rainy downpours, and playing endless games of Release, Tag, and Dodgeball. Some years, there were feelings of special excitement over a new friend I’d made or (in later years) attention from a certain boy. Another year was tinged with sadness after saying goodbye to a long-time neighborhood playmate. He was moving far enough away to know I’d never see him again.
The beginning of a new school year meant new supplies, clothes, shoes, and a purse as I grew older. I absolutely loved selecting notebooks, pocket folders, binders, and such in a rainbow of colors and designs. They even had pens with scented ink (which I’d forgotten about until writing this post!)
Quality time was spent the night before the first day of school preparing my wallet and handbag with all the essentials: photos of classmates from prior years, Kleenex, Chapstick, mints, pens, pencils, and lunch money. The only thing I remember about the clothes is the plaid; lots and lots of plaid. I think that was a '70s thing. I recall one pair of shoes that were black patent leather flats with large silver buckles on top. They looked exactly like the ones the pilgrims wore, which came in handy in the third-grade Thanksgiving play.
With the onset of fall, we exchanged our bathing suits and sparklers for sweatshirts and all things Halloween. The countdown began once we fell into the rhythm of a new school year. To my mind, it was the first major holiday (despite NOT being an actual holiday.) Most of October was spent deciding which character to be and how to create the costume. Some years, we got store-bought attire, but most of the time, we patched it together with stuff from around the house.
In those days, we went trick or treating from 6:00 to 8:00. It was dark when we went door to door, making the whole thing a lot more scary-fun. We didn’t have our parents escort us, which would have been pretty lame, although, in those days, we would’ve described it as ‘uncool.’ It was a race of sorts to see how many houses we could hit up before 8:00 p.m. when the porch lights were shut off. Once finished, my brother and I would dump our pillowcases on the living room floor and inventory the night’s goodies; another Halloween in the books.
Thanksgiving came next, and we looked forward to the days off school as much as the assorted holiday dishes (stuffed turkey and pumpkin pies were a once-a-year treat.) I recall watching the Macy’s parade on TV while listening to Mom and Grandma arguing in the kitchen about food prep. Mom always wanted to experiment with new recipes, while Grandma was adamant about sticking to the ‘tried and true’ traditions that everyone loved. We marveled at the gigantic balloons that floated effortlessly through the streets of NYC, heading for Herald Square, where the flagship department store is still located today. Curled up in our flannel pajamas with a bowl of Cream of Wheat, we enjoyed the show on the television AND the one in the kitchen!
Autumn is a season of transition, and they all are in their own way. Here in the northeastern United States, it gives us time to prepare for the blustery cold winter that arrives a couple of months later. We ease into the stark temperature changes slowly as the air turns from humid summer to sweatshirt chilly to an eventual frosty bite, requiring thermal underwear and layers of clothes.
I’ve always associated autumn with gold: leaves, pumpkins, gourds, mums, goldenrods, and the wonderful poem by Robert Frost. Composed in 1923, Frost reminds us that everything has a season, including the things and people most precious to us. Just as nature cycles through life and death, so do we. The reference to the Garden of Eden signifies the loss of innocence, a lesson we all experience at some point in time.
Over the past few years, I’ve begun to notice a stillness that seems to coalesce with the fall days. I usually listen to an audiobook or podcast when working around my yard. But during walks in the local park, I prefer the sounds of nature. And it changes from season to season.
Right now, the birds seem less chatty, and the quietness is punctuated by the scraping of dried leaves that my feet push along on the asphalt. The squirrels and chipmunks are busy preparing for winter and go silently about their work. It’s as if everything is winding down in anticipation of something. And I suppose that something is hibernation when living things enter a dormant state.
I’ve often wondered in which season I’d prefer to depart this amazing planet if given a choice.
It wouldn’t be spring because the promise of new life and all that it offers makes it too hard to say goodbye. I wouldn’t choose summer because of the many happy childhood memories that live there. And the brilliance of autumn with her fiery reds and glistening golds is too beautiful to leave.
But winter feels like the right choice with its cold, dreary days, lack of sunshine, and growth. Like the animals, I’d choose winter for my rest.
It’s the natural time for deep slumber before transitioning to the next season.
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Next week: more about Childhood Emotional Neglect (CEN) and how it affects us in our adult lives. If you’ve had unexplained feelings of sadness and detachment throughout your life, you may have experienced some level of CEN.
I hope you’ll join us!
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
“What season makes you feel the most alive and why.”
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Thanks for sharing, Janice. I also enjoy spring with longer daylight and warmer temps! All the seasons have their own unique beauty. Even winter, which is my least favorite. I live in the northeast and the sun is absent during much of the winter. I tolerate the cold less now that I'm getting older.
This brought back so many memories. Thank you for that.
My husband and I still take the last outdoor bike ride of the season visiting many of the highlights of our summer cycling. The weather is supposed to turn colder this weekend which is Canadian Thanksgiving so we’ve scheduled the ride for Thanksgiving Monday. That last ride is always bittersweet.