Singing the praises of autumn's return

Autumn, it's very name exudes a sense of the poetic beauty that abounds throughout the season. This is a time of abundance and endings, where a bountiful harvest overlaps with the final days of truly warm sunshine for many in the more northerly parts of the world, and countless crispy, crunchy leaves looking as though they've been cast in lustrous metals tumble down as we tuck our sundresses away once more (or at the very least, partner them with opaque tights).

There is no segment of the year that I adore more than autumn - especially the first few weeks, when golden light and the renewed scent of chimney smoke dance in gracious harmony through the days, as dusk grows ever shorter, grinning pumpkins seem to chase away the last few mosquitos of summer, and a certain almost electric magic fills the air.



{Fall means apple picking (be sure to take a style cue from this cute 1940s gal and wear a darling novelty print dress when you do), pumpkin patch trips, generously sized Thanksgiving feasts, ghost stories told around campfires, wool coats, closed toed shoes, and a bevy of other marvelous things we haven't enjoyed for many a long month. Image source.}



Time realizes that it need not rush so any more, much as there is to be done as September wraps up and October - beloved, dear, gorgeous, thrillingly spooky, October - settles in for what, if one is lucky, may be the last snow-free month of the year. Sometimes snow strikes before the witching hour of All Hallows Eve, but not always, and the "will it, won't it?" aspect always holds its own certain familiar appeal.

We know the year is winding down, the lingering spirit of summer's merriment hangs in the air, but we can already foresee the winter holiday season in the very next thought, too. For now though, Santa and his team of reindeer are a good ways off. There's cornucopias, scarecrows, thick slices of pumpkin pie, Halloween costumes, and Remembrance Day poppies to come first.

No matter what is transpiring in my life at the time, year after year, without fail, I feel a sense of childlike giddiness when autumn returns. I smile, trample playfully through freshly raked piles of leaves, and inhale as much of the fragrant air, which seems to contain notes of cinnamon, dried foliage, and freshly chopped wood in every breath.

Fall is always a busy season at our house, containing as it does everything from Canadian Thanksgiving to our wedding anniversary, Halloween to one week in mid-October with three family birthdays, but I wouldn't have it any other way.



{Though it can be an action packed time for us, autumn always seems to come bearing a profusion serenity, the likes of which summer can rarely match, and this calmer pace suits - and sooths - me just fine. Image source.}



I associate this chapter of year with productivity (gone is the relentlessly sweltering heat of summer that can zap one's energy to the point where just getting through the day from morning to night feels like a significant achievement), good company, decorating, planning, and scrumptious slow cooked meals.

It's never easy to part ways with summer (even if its heat can get on one's a little nerves at times), and I know that as soon as we awaken to the first frost of the season, I'll feel a twinge of longing for the dog days that were upon us just a few weeks ago. Right now though, I'm all about autumn and every last joy, possibility, familiar favourite, new adventure, and caramel filled dessert it contains.

The gorgeous, snow-free side of this season tends to be short, and by November, we might as well roll out the welcome mat for Frosty the Snowman, but right here and now it's just beginning and there are weeks left of mild days and a kaleidoscopic colour palette adorning mother nature to savour.

I hope deeply that this autumn is a beautiful one for each of you. I know that 2013 hasn't been the easiest of years for a lot of people, but perhaps this bronze light covered second to last chapter will prove less problematic and stressful for all of us.

Join me, won't you, in raising a steaming mug of hot apple cider to that hope and the thought of every good and wonderful thing that makes up this resplendently lovely season!