AUTUMN ALMANAC |
November 15, 2011 |
Whenever I did nature stuff with my father at home, in New York City, he always used to tell me to pay attention to the qualities of each season, because “things change quickly.” In summer, he’d say to remember the grass on the ground because it would soon be covered with leaves. And in the fall, he would point to the fallen leaves and tell me to remember them, because they would soon be blanketed with snow. When the end of winter came around, he wanted me to remember the snow—the mark of winter, because it too would soon be gone.
When I went for a walk last Sunday afternoon through Indian Hill Cemetery—a beautiful spot that spirals up to the highest point in Middletown—his words came to mind again. Fall was in full effect. The air was fresh and crisp, and the bright brittle leaves were collecting on the ground. But what perhaps caught my attention most was the amber autumn light. I now realize that it’s this part of fall that makes it my favorite season.
I just happen to think that, no offense, the other seasons tend to be more one-dimensional: summer is sunny, winter is grey, and spring is kind of colorful. But fall, fall light has a special quality to it. If you catch autumn at the right hour, it really does hold nature in a distinctive and magnificent state. And that’s my rose.
My walk was only about half an hour, but by the time I left Indian Hill, the sun was already down, the fleeting light reduced to a slow darkness. That fall light, though a beautiful thing, is pretty illusive… and Daylight Savings certainty didn’t help. We’re in college, and by the time we usually wake up (at least on the weekends), the sun is already on its way down. It’s done all the shit it needs to do, and we’ve sadly missed most of it. That’s my thorn.