I don’t know about you, Friendly Reader, but I am definitely feeling Fall-ish. The air has crisped a bit here, the sun is bright, the sky is blue, and I can already see some leaves starting to warm into reds and golds on the trees. Last night, I cleaned my little house a bit, sweeping September out with the wash and trash, and prepared for October’s arrival with twinkle lights, warmly-scented candles, comfiest clothes, and blanket nests on the couches with some of my favorite soul-refreshers.
I did not grow up in a world with Fall as a season and so have learned to cherish it as something beautiful and comforting and magical. It is change that fuels that feeling — though, yes, the feeling is often the opposite for me — but it is change to a quieter time. In the Fall, all start to make ready for winter, for rest, for dormancy. From the flora to the fauna to the folx, we all make preparation in Autumn, and I have come to crave it, especially in the last ten years.
I need this change. I need this preparation for wintering, for dormancy. I need the permission of Fall.
I need to know that it is okay to swaddle and start to hunker down. It is okay to hobbit inside my little home, cozy and warm and provisioned. The rapid time of the Holidays will come soon enough and then the deep quiet of winter. It is okay for me to embrace this time of change, of preparation, of movement towards quiet.
I need Fall with its cozying as much as I need Spring with its burgeoning life. I need the permission that fall gives me for warm clothes and cozy knits, for weighted blankets on my bed and a fire in the hearth, for twinkle lights and caramel-pumpkin-scented candles. I need the warmth of its colors amidst the cool of its air.
I need Fall. Autumn is a must for me now. I do not know how I might ever live without it again.
Welcome, October! You came in so beautifully, and it is so good to see you. Stay for a good long while, yeah?