I don’t know if I’ve ever had my seasonal discussion with anyone.
I tend to like fall the best of all seasons. In Texas, our fall is more like a prolonged indian summer. We have gradually cooler nights and evenings, hot days fading to pleasantly warm, and green grass and fall flowers until the second week of November. In years like this one, we have enough moisture in the ground that the trees in our suburban enclave are already showing the promise of fall color–scarlet Maples and Bradford Pears, Bald Cypress turning orange/red, and Oak trees yellowing and dropping their leaves. This day marks the first day of fall for most of us in the Dallas area. We had our first, blustery day with a cool rain and a strong northerly wind. The day was just right for a good book and great conversation, but alas for work and all the various interruptions that it entails.
I suppose one of the reasons that I like Autumn is that it is a melancholy season. In my heart of hearts, I am a melancholy person. There is something emotionally stirring about seeing the leaves fall from the trees and feeling the air turn from warm to deliciously cool. I am fond of the patter of raindrops against windows, as long as I have a dog head in my lap and a pot of potato soup simmering on the stove. I feel calm and centered in the wake of this seasonal transition. For me, it signals a time to shore up my faith in the things unseen and prepare for the celebrations of the holidays. My rebirth as a person happens during this time of year…not during the spring.
The other thing that makes me treasure late October and early November is that I try to make one trip to southeastern Oklahoma. This generally falls on or near Veteran’s Day, and this year is no exception. Long-range weather reports indicate that the weather will likely be cool and damp, but I always hold out hope for a last few days of indian summer to play in the wilderness before winter sets in. It is in those woods, surrounded by the warmth of close friends and family, that I can find peace and restoration. Being away from everything that makes suburban life so crazy is the tonic that I need to get me through six more months of the grind.
I hold the same admiration for that fall as you do. I just returned from my upstate NY trip and I tried to soak in as much of it as I could. The beautiful rolling hills splashed with all the colors of fall just make me want to stop and stare and forget what I was doing or going. Fortunately thats what I went up there for and my days were filled with relaxing by the fire, a little target practice and steak dinners in the log cabin. I must say I thought of you Pete as this cabin and the setting around it reminds me of writers remote winter home. I can’t wait for the upcoming OK trip and I have all my murder machines sighted in and ready to go (won’t Nina be pleased:)