Anticipating Autumn

What I love most about Fall is how different its approach feels than any other season.

With Spring, things begin to warm up slowly, there's the blossoms, and then all of a sudden it's 90 degrees and we're into Summer. Winter seems to happen abruptly as well. They're all beautiful in their own way, sure, but there's nothing better than the way Fall sneaks up on you. One day you're basking in the heat of late summer, and the next you wake up and there is a chill in the air, a feeling like something wonderful is about to happen. From that day on, you wear a jacket everywhere. You bust out your boots. The tip of your nose gets cold when you walk any farther than 25 yards. The heater kicks on.

It's that feeling that triggers all the others to burst out suddenly, almost unexpected, like fireworks on July 6th. It's the Halloween excitement. Fall TV premieres coupled with hope and anxiety. Amazement at the beauty of dying leaves. School nerves. Music that seems to fit better in crisp temperatures. The comfort that comes from crackling fires and the joy of frothy hot chocolate. Can you feel that? That's Fall.

For me, it's the season that induces anticipation like none else. And a sense of urgency. Like it's saying "You'd better get in all you hoped to, I don't know how long I'll be here. The snows of Winter are coming to take you hostage for five months."

So, I love Fall. And I know it when I feel it.

If you want to keep reading, here's a poem I wrote in 2003 about Fall:

Wishful Maple

When I die, everyone will notice. I want to make a scene. I am going to strip myself naked. Slowly. Piece by piece. Standing proud, limbs unsheathed, I'll shiver one last time and splatter red all over the yard. A timely pre-winter whisper will be my cue to come apart. When it is my time to die, the guard will drop and gravity will take over, slowly. It is possible my brilliant remains will be left on the knobby ground to rot. Or maybe, they will be swept into a crispy colorful pile, used as an itchy nap-time mattress or haunted hiding place and then cremated, autumnal ashes reaching a hundred nostalgic noses

A Sentimental Season

We are on the springboard for my favorite time of year. And by “time of year” I mean “October through December.” Each month and holiday its own, but knitted together in this cornucopia of tastes, tints, and textures. 

We threw up our Halloween decorations on Saturday. Too early, you say? Well, I just checked with myself, and guess what we decided - we don't care! We ate candy corn, ready spooky stories to each other, and hung up a substantial amount of Halloween and autumn decor. 

Not our actual house. Or decorations. 

The practice of holiday decorations is something I brought to our marriage, but something Katie perfected. It started in October 1995, when we'd been married less than two months and were still in college. Realizing we had nothing hanging up in our one-room basement apartment, I made photocopies at work of crappy cut-outs of traditional Halloween characters, laminated them, brought them home, and hung them up all over our little abode. 

Kind of like this, but even less so. 

When Katie asked why I was crap-ifying our apartment, I explained. 

My mom, who raised 7 kids, was all about the holidays. Her selflessness was boundless to begin with; but the way she celebrated this time of year was unparalleled. And she had an abundance of holiday decorations. She was also all about the food - pumpkin flavored things, breads, soups, baked goods, candy, etc. But I always loved coming home from school and feeling the seasons and holidays all over the walls and tables and surfaces of our home. And I wanted to continue that. 

And Katie was happy to participate. Her first act, as Producer of Holiday Decor, was to remove the sad, desperate attempt to call laminated paper a "decoration." Over the lats 18 years we have purchased or handmade or received some pretty cool autumn decorations. I love that Katie embraced something that was significant to me. I love that my kids get kiddy when we pull out holiday decorations and the day is filled with laughter, a Halloween iPod mix our family made together, and the kids start every other sentence with, "Remember that one Halloween when...." 

I love that I associate these things with my mom. I think I always will. She just had a birthday (Happy 69th, Mom!), and I think when this time of year rolls around, she's at her youngest.