I adore seasons, especially the changing of seasons, and I’ve been waiting for fall to come. I’m probably one of the only people that doesn’t love the Indian Summer of San Francisco in September and October. It just doesn’t feel RIGHT. I’m supposed to be wearing sweaters and sipping tea, watching the leaves change – not wearing a sun dress. Finally, yesterday, it really felt like it was fall in San Francisco.
“But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.”
― Stephen King, Salem’s Lot
I don’t have a favorite season, I love them all. Seasons are so sensory – we see, hear, smell, touch and taste different things depending on the time of year. What’s more, each season has it’s own feeling: Cozy, fresh, ripe, nostalgic. And each has it’s own way of celebrating, steeped in the traditions of childhood (and those we’ve made up along the way).
I thought this morning, while I stared at the wall of fog outside my window sipping a cup of tea, how seasons provide us a perfect reminder to be present. As we walk down the street, hurrying through our lives, a sight (leaves turning), a smell (woodsmoke), a sound (birds squawking in migration) or a taste (the sip of our pumpkin spice tea) brings us back into the moment, reminds us of where – and when – we are.
Use the changing of the seasons as a reminder to be present. Stop, take a look around, and in the comments below fill in the blank: My favorite thing about fall is ____________.
“Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring.”
― Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s