It’s autumn.
Yes, I know it’s still plenty hot in lots of places around the country (including here). And I know that technically “civil Autumn” in the US starts after Labor Day at the end of the month. And I know that June through August are the summer vacation months and most kids are out of school
Doesn’t matter.
It’s autumn nonetheless (unless you are on the other half of the world, in which case it’s spring). It’s not the heat. It’s not the holiday. It’s not the school schedules or vacations. It’s autumn because of the light. It’s autumn because of how it feels in the early morning. It’s autumn because it’s the harvest seasons and the obligation of that time of year is heavy on us.
Every year around this time I feel it. Sometime’s it’s a week earlier and sometimes a week later, but it’s always just around this time. Just around the time of my birthday in fact.
Last Sunday I came home from the market with a squash (among many other things) and today I found myself looking up canning recipes. It is definitely autumn.
And that makes me happy!
Along with spring, autumn is my favorite season. Autumn makes me miss Minnesota (it was the best season there, just as spring is here in Oregon, summer in Colorado, and winter in New Mexico). Autumn makes me want to feast (I never celebrate Lammas on the day because it’s too early usually) and celebrate the bounty of the growing season.
Autumn makes me want to get my shit together. It makes me want to buy school supplies (never mind that I haven’t been in school in decades and the kid is nearly done). It makes me want to clean and catch up on laundry (fall cleaning is a thing for us, like spring cleaning in reverse). I suddenly realize we need to defrost the big freezer and check the canned goods. I want to buy lots of food in bulk.
Because why exactly? Are wolves coming? Is there a chance of famine in my urbane and urban existence? Not likely. It’s something deep and primal in my brain that says “store food! buy squash! get ready because the dead of winter will be here soon!” An urge that might just be genetic (I grew up in New Mexico, where winter is the nicest season so I doubt it’s from childhood). Somewhere deep in my ancestry are hardy Northern Europeans, clothed in wolf pelts and battered on the frozen steppes (I may have read Clan of the Cave Bear at a too impressionable age).
This year summer was very challenging (as it was for many of us) and I’m looking forward to autumn with even greater fervor).
So here’s to the harvest season and the darkening of the light.
