Saturday, November 12, 2005
What is it about autumn that fills me with such comfort and sadness at the same time? I notice this most as I stand in our courtyard looking out over the gardens, eyes caught by the burnt red and apricot leaves of our smokebush, its spent blooms now looking more like pieces of hay than the pink puffs of mimosa they mimic in summer. At once I notice a feeling of longing inside, something on the verge of anxiety, but then all at once a feeling of satisfaction and comfort replaces it. Back and forth I seem to shift between sadness and a comforting sense of deja vu. Is it my youth I grieve, when schooldays brought me out into the crisp fall mornings much earlier than I would have preferred? Or is it something still unknown to me, an autumnal event which beckons my emotional memory but leaves my consciousness behind? No matter, autumn is my favorite time of year, passionate in its colors of hot flames and burning embers...seducing us into winter's long sleep.