Autumn (or Nature's Goodbye)

A look at everyone's favorite season.

Fall is here. That time of year when colorful cheer and pumpkin spiced beer give us a warm feeling that’s real. Orange, yellows, and reds dance in our heads. When the young and old alike, adorned in their festive flannels and plaid ensembles, make like bad to the corn fields and pumpkin patch to pluck apples from their mother tree and sip on spiked beverages to fill them with glee.

Yes, I’m talking about everyone’s favorite season, and if it isn’t — well then why are you here? Go away. Loser.

Anyway, yes. Everyone’s favorite season, except for whoever has already left.

Fall — or Autumn. Whichever you prefer. I like to use both, and I plan on doing so for the remainder of this post.

Fall. The fall. The fall of the leaves. The end of everything built up in lush green beauty through spring and into summer. The build up to a climactic end of all the beautiful life out in nature before the cold clutches of winter freeze over the land.

They say before people die there’s suddenly a last burst of energy and health. I’ve seen it before with loved ones. In the hospital for weeks, no sign of anything changing or health increasing, and then suddenly — boom! [Insert Name Here]’s health shot up. They look and feel great! They’re ready to go home. Dead the next day.

That’s autumn in a much more morbid and way less beautiful sense. The little seedlings planted in spring begin growing. They mature and blossom into beautiful plants, giving us fruits and flowers. The heat of the summer eventually settles and the plants get old, unable to grow fruits or having passed their flowering phase already.

Fall swoops in and gives the world one last taste to remind us all of its natural beauty with breathtaking views of the magical colors that define the season. One last farewell, before the kiss of death that is winter slowly rumbles over the dead. The quiet and icy funeral given each year before the thaw comes and the cycle starts anew.

Autumn is an interesting time.

I for one love the Halloween aspects. Well, the PG-13 rated aspects anyway. I can drink enough pumpkin beer to put down anyone reading this and get as warm a feeling as anyone when immersed in the colors of the season.

However, last weekend something hit me. I had spent the day, a Saturday, adventuring through Westchester. We spent the day knocking off everything on the prototypical fall events calendar that generates in my head once a year, usually around July.

We picked apples, pumpkins, even extremely unappetizing pears. Spiked cider was sipped. A pumpkin beer was had. Two too many apple cider donuts were consumed. And of course, we got to enjoy the awesome colors that always filled me with a sense of warm and hope.

It was everything we wanted. One of those perfect days that only happened a few times a year when everything was hitting on all cylinders. Even if things weren’t perfect, they were. We were just happy, filled with a nostalgic sense of perfection as the memories of our youth filled our hearts.

The fall is just one of those seasons that can spark something inside of you. A chilly evening as you walk down the street. You zip up your hoodie as a full moon casts a glow which illuminates the street surrounding you. The soft material hugs your skin and gives you warmth. Your lungs take a nice gulp of fresh fall air and you reminisce about the peaceful day you had amongst the pumpkins.

Then, as headlights quickly fly past you and you jaywalk across the street because you’re uncomfortable on this side, you remember the movie you watched the other night. Or was it the serial killer TV show you binged watched the other week? The pep in your step increases as the moonlight is blocked from a swaying tree whose jagged branches reach over the street and stifle the light.

You’re swept up in darkness as you pull on your hood to give you an extra dose of protection from whatever and whoever is out there. Paranoia sets in as you continue your trek to the destination of your choice. The pattering footsteps scurry behind you. You pray you don’t run into the smiling man with his mechanical movements and inhumane eyes.

What about the fall makes the perfect day turn into an unforgiving night?

For as great as the days of autumn are (and they are), it’s strange to think about the nights.

At 7pm during the spring or summer the sun is up high. Kids are out playing and there isn’t a worry in the world.

7pm in the fall may as well be 3am. It’s dark and no one is out. The cold of the day feels a little colder. The air a little more stale. Dark enough that you can’t see anyone in the shadows. No winter’s frost to stop anyone from lurking outside.

It amazes me to realize that one of the most joyful and warm times of the year could simultaneously be one of the creepiest. But how?

This brings us back to the point of the beautiful colors before the dead winter. Key word — dead. Autumn is dying. Everything that surrounds us in lush bright colors is on its last legs as the fingers of death embrace them until they finally cross over to the afterlife.

Winter is the dead one. We need not fear it for death has come and gone from that place. Why would death hang around the winter? There’s nothing else for it to grab. Which is why that feeling of fear may creep up on us on a cold fall evening. It’s then when death is all around us. When we stand amongst the dying, trying not to join the ranks.

It makes sense now, why all the horror movies and fall themes revolve around the season. Why the Gaels had Samhain. Why South Americans have Dia de los Muertos. And why we have the great Halloween. Morphic Resonance coarses through humanity’s veins. We remember the time, the feelings, and the death.

It’s a celebration of the cycle of life and death. The cycle of the seasons. The end of the colors. When the bare dead winter waits for new life to return in spring. Autumn — or fall — is a great time of year and brings many people, myself included, a lot of joy. But one thing not to be forgotten: every life has an end, every dawn has a dusk.

And when the sun sets on a picture perfect fall day, you can’t make out the colors in the night.

Let’s start a dialogue. What’s your favorite season? What does this time of year mean to you? Share your thoughts on these questions and more in the comments.

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