Tuesday, 2 October 2012


...is a month of reverence for me. It is the month I look forward to all year; the start of the season that makes my blood hum and my bones quiver. September is full of hints; those particular trees that shock us by suddenly turning red before any others, and that subtle shift in the air that reminds us. Autumn is coming.
Some deep instinct makes us suddenly crave the hearth, and my dinnertime thoughts turn from salads to stews. Out come the slippers, the throw blankets, the door snakes and the crock pot. The primal urge to hunker down and nestle together tugs on my subconscience. 
But oh, oh, oh, how I love to be outside in Autumn. There is nothing better, and my heart sings with excitement as i write this, nothing better than spending a crisp fall day outdoors, filling my lungs with that glorious fresh air, and then coming home to a cozy evening inside, with a casserole maybe, a hot mug of tea, and a favourite movie. 
I. Love. Autumn. 

It's more than just my favourite season. It is the Time of Grace. The season of harvest. Of bounty after a hard summer's work (for many, anyway, and hopefully someday for me, too). Of blissful relief after the oppressive heat of summer. There is something about Autumn that always draws me back to my Maker- makes my soul call out for something greater. It is a sacred time of year for me, and I'm not sure I understand it well enough to articulate it any more than that. I think it's something inane in human nature, maybe in all life. Perhaps it is because, in days long ago, this was our final season of relative comfort before the trials and hardships of winter. Perhaps these Autumn days were once full of thanks for their lingering warmth, and prayers for strength and provision in the coming cold and darkness ahead. I'm sure of it, in fact, and maybe the echoes of the prayers of my ancestors is what I feel when I see the forests around me ablaze with colour and my breath catches and my skin tingles. 

There is no fear in winter anymore, for many of us. The thermostat gets cranked up and snow tires are installed, but the grocery list doesn't change, there is no scrambling to stack the last cord of wood, no long underwear to mend, and little meaning in the changing of the clocks beyond a stolen extra hour of sleep. Winter is a season for snowboarding, holiday shopping and Caribbean vacations.

But that instinctual tingling is still there, oblivious though we may be. The urge to camp on the couch with a steaming mug of cider, the quickening of our blood as we walk around outside; we have done a fairly thorough job of stamping out our primal nature in the last hundred years or so. But not completely.

October still makes every fibre in me tingle. It makes me want to fall to my knees in a pile of glorious red and yellow leaves and thank God that I have not been completely severed from my connection to the Earth. It makes me want to dig my hands and feet into the ground and fall asleep with the trees, and meditate until Spring on reforging that bond.

Hallowed October, Welcome.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful writing and photos, Christine.

    Today, I'm sitting in bed listening to the rain fall on the colorful leaves outside. I've had a "helluva" week and I'm feeling extremely drawn out. Mr. UpCountry tells me that, no matter what I think HAS to get done today, I can actually relax without the world falling apart.

    He's a wise man, but I still have a hard time listening (go figure). Don't rub it in his face or anything, but reading this post (while still in my PJs at 2:00 in the afternoon and with unbrushed teeth) has been more encouraging to me than anything else.

    Crazy beautiful words. Thank you for your sharing your reverence for autumn. I love it, too, and I've been letting the frenzy of life blind me to its wonder. For shame.

    This was an excellent reminder to open my eyes back up to joy and glory. I might even put on some real, society-approved clothes, go to the grocery, and buy some apple cider! :D