Last night I was privy to a conversation lamenting the early sunsets of fall. It was nearing 7 p.m. and dusk was settling in outside the coffee shop we occupied. The others with me missed the daylight stretching well into the evening, the late nights summer inevitably brings.
But oh, not me. The other seasons exist so I can recall how much I appreciate autumn, or so I would have you think. All year long I crave those first few moments when summer’s heat breaks and suddenly 90 degrees is a hot day. I long for nights spent with the windows open, fading into mornings, afternoons and evenings spent with the windows open. I daydream about taking my morning coffee on my balcony. I wait for football and planning outfits for a 20 degree swing in temperature from tailgate’s beginning to game’s end. I recall those magical moments as a student in Tuscaloosa, when I would step onto the quad and think, this is what campus life should feel like. (Somehow those came in spring in Tallahassee.) I embrace harvest beers and light my harvest candles. I queue up my autumn playlist for weeks in advance of the weather’s change. (Is it surprising that it’s eight times longer than my lists for the other seasons? I don’t think so.) I switch from my daytime coffee to hot apple cider in the evenings. In retrospect, even difficult seasons in life seem sweeter if they occurred during fall.
I am trying to relish in every hint of my favorite season, from September’s overtures to its final, fading notes in December. I don’t want to wish a moment of it away.
And even when the trees have just surrendered to the harvest time
Forfeiting their leaves in mid-September and sending us inside,
Still I notice you when change begins and I am braced for colder winds.
I will offer thanks for what has been and what’s to come.
–Nichole Nordeman, “Every Season”