Advent of Fall Pendant by Elysian Fields
There's something in the air in autumn. The bite of promised cold, the smell of harvests past ripening. Magic, maybe.
Since I moved to Tennessee I love fall more than I used to. Up north, fall was a threat of a long, hard, cold winter. Autumn was a time to pull your resolve around you like your favorite cozy sweater and bear down to endure the snow and the dark days. Here, it is a respite from the oppressive summer heat and humidity, like a deep breath that stills the soul to peacefulness. You remember to look, because something is different.
The trees are magical. Shades from purple to amber to blazing red dress their leafy crowns until they create one of the most perfect wonders for a small child: raked piles of leaves. When I was young I had a dog that would follow his tennis ball ANYWHERE, and it still brings a smile to my face to think about throwing his ball into a three-foot-high pile of leaves, watching him take a flying leap into it and vanish. The mound would then move like a thing alive, until he emerged with his prize, triumphant, with a comic dry leaf or two stuck in his fur and an enormous smile on his face. Of course we took plenty of our own flying leaps, too.
Autumn is change, more than any other season. It is both celebration and preparation. It is ripened apples and harvested pumpkins, it is the crunch and rustle of leaves beneath your feet. It is dew that shifts to frost, coloring the world in subdued hues as dawn shades the morning in matching lavenders and peaches. It is the smell of a knit sweater that you pull out for the first time this year, the smell of last year's you that will never be quite the same. It is the most spectacular sunsets, and harvest moons, and a clear night sky in which each star seems sharper, more focused. It is gathering, both the harvest and the family, and thankfulness. Even up north, it was the contentment of knowing that, no matter what the winter or the future holds, we will survive it.
Since I moved to Tennessee I love fall more than I used to. Up north, fall was a threat of a long, hard, cold winter. Autumn was a time to pull your resolve around you like your favorite cozy sweater and bear down to endure the snow and the dark days. Here, it is a respite from the oppressive summer heat and humidity, like a deep breath that stills the soul to peacefulness. You remember to look, because something is different.
The trees are magical. Shades from purple to amber to blazing red dress their leafy crowns until they create one of the most perfect wonders for a small child: raked piles of leaves. When I was young I had a dog that would follow his tennis ball ANYWHERE, and it still brings a smile to my face to think about throwing his ball into a three-foot-high pile of leaves, watching him take a flying leap into it and vanish. The mound would then move like a thing alive, until he emerged with his prize, triumphant, with a comic dry leaf or two stuck in his fur and an enormous smile on his face. Of course we took plenty of our own flying leaps, too.
Autumn is change, more than any other season. It is both celebration and preparation. It is ripened apples and harvested pumpkins, it is the crunch and rustle of leaves beneath your feet. It is dew that shifts to frost, coloring the world in subdued hues as dawn shades the morning in matching lavenders and peaches. It is the smell of a knit sweater that you pull out for the first time this year, the smell of last year's you that will never be quite the same. It is the most spectacular sunsets, and harvest moons, and a clear night sky in which each star seems sharper, more focused. It is gathering, both the harvest and the family, and thankfulness. Even up north, it was the contentment of knowing that, no matter what the winter or the future holds, we will survive it.
1 comments:
Thank you soo much for featuring one of my leaves. I LOVE Fall!!
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