(Taken from our upper level deck)
I love fall. It really is my favorite season. I also enjoy other seasons, and particularly the CHANGE that comes with each new season. But my favorite is fall. Always has been.
I love the sounds of fall, like the acorns falling to the ground with a thud, the leaves rustling as the squirrels are gathering those acorns, and the sounds of post-season baseball on TV, especially if the Cardinals are still playing.
I like the smells of fall, like the Pumpkin Bars baking, the fresh coffee in my cup while sitting on the deck, the Pumpkin Pie and Spiced Orange candles burning, cinnamon, the bonfire where we are roasting hot dogs and marshmallows. Closely related to the smells, I like the tastes of fall, like the Fresh Apple Pie, the Pumpkin Spice Latte, the caramel apples, homemade soups and breads, and all the wonderful tastes of Thanksgiving.
I love the sights of fall, like the pumpkins and the mums and the haystacks, the colors of the leaves, and all the colors of fall.
I love the fall. I like to hang out here. I don’t like it when the harvest season and Thanksgiving are rushed through, to get to Christmas. I like the thankful season.
One of the things I enjoy most about fall is the contrast I see as the “world” around our house transitions from summer to fall. We are blessed to live in a woods filled with lots of hard maples. I know this because my husband told me. He is the tree guru. He knows about trees. If you’ve ever had a conversation with him, you probably know why he knows all about trees (don’t ask him about cutting wood as a young lad, unless you have time for long stories—good ones, actually). You can ask him about any tree, and he can identify it for you—“That’s a water oak (insert sound of son’s laughter here—“There’s no such thing as a water oak, Dad…” Response: “That’s what my dad called it, so it’s a water oak...”…that’s a scaly bark hickory…a black hickory…walnut…that’s a pin oak, a white oak, a post oak, a red oak, a hickory, white ash, sycamore, cottonwood…” He knows them all.
For me, the important thing about having a lot of hard maples in the woods all around us is that the time of transition, from summer to fall, is the most beautiful time of the year where we live. This afternoon I grabbed my camera and just walked around the house, taking pictures of all the views. I asked my husband if this would be the best time to get pictures, or if the trees would get still prettier if I waited. He explained that some of the trees would get prettier, but by then some of them will have lost their color or the leaves will have fallen to the ground.
So, during the transition time, there remains a lot of green, providing a sharp contrast and a complementary backdrop for the trees whose leaves are already a bright yellow or orange. This is my favorite time. Perhaps I like it best because I like the color combinations better than after there is a lot of brown. But perhaps I like it best because I like the symbolism of green (summer) to orange (fall) better than orange to brown. Perhaps it’s all wrapped up in my “stage of life” (isn’t everything these days?), and I don’t like much of anything that tends toward the “brown” stage. But my husband also reminded me today that the trees are most glorious just before they turn brown. Maybe I will allow that thought to motivate me to make this the most glorious time of my life.
For me, for now, I enjoy this beautiful season (of the year, and, okay, also of my life).