The Joys and Dreads of Autumn and Winter
Every summer I look forward to autumn. My favourite time of the year. I love the way the autumn sun feels different, lower in the sky, golden and warm on my skin despite the cooler temperature and slight bite in the air. The way the colours feel more intense, like I’ve upped the contrast on VSCO. Baby pumpkins in supermarkets and a sudden craving for hot soup and crusty bread. Soft knitwear in autumnal colours and drives through country lanes. The trees alive showing their colours. Orange. Red. Purple. Brown.
Though really their leaves are dying, soon to be discarded on the ground. Crisp at first step. Another autumn delight. Before turning into brown mush slopped to the edge of the pavement, wet with the eventual rain to come, squelching as cars drive over.
The warmth and crackle of a bonfire, the smell intoxicating the air. Huddling under hats and scarves to watch the fireworks sparkle above. The oohs and ahhs camouflaging the sniffs and shivers, before trudging back to the comfort of home. Where endless duvet days and Netflix binges wait ahead.
Life passing by until the inevitable. Curtains cracked open to reveal a dark morning sky. A misty fog in the distance and the realisation that it’s coming to an end. Autumn never lasts as long as I want. Yet winter lasts forever. The days ever shorter, the mornings dark and gloomy. My mood so easily reflected in puddles. The golden moments fewer and further between.
I sometimes find myself thinking forward to the days which hold promise. Birthdays. Christmas. Wishing away my days to get to these moments I keep nostalgic. Unknowingly urging myself faster into the never ending feeling. The shift from the regular to the seasonal kind. The darkness expansive, all encompassing and heavy. I lose my life to it. The time passing by too fast yet too slow. But it’s always the same. And I am always the same. The small pleasures coupled with the emptiness somehow remain pleasures nonetheless. And this I hold onto.