Ode to Autumn

As I get older and myself enter my autumn years, I’ve found my affection for this season increasing. It is a subtle time full of muted colour, mellow sunlight and crisp, dry days.

It is tempting to think of autumn as summer’s swan song; a last performance before the chill of winter sets in. Yet, autumn is not an addendum to summer, a nostalgic nod to former, warmer days, but a season in its own right filled with the matured glories of the ending year.

Harvest

Until the 16th century and our gradual move from an agrarian to industrial society, autumn was known as harvest. Indeed, in some Germanic languages, it still is.

I think it a more fitting name, for this is the period when the crops are brought in; a time of plenty, even glut. Keats describes it as:

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

    Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

    With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run

John Keats ‘To Autumn’

Looked at in this way, it is no longer summer’s poor relation, but a period of joyous abundance. Though my garden is less colourful than before, there are still apples and pears to be picked, raspberries on their canes and a second wave of squashes flowering. My black kale is now large enough to crop and my giant sunflowers are growing apace. Across the land, there is a profusion of wild and cultivated crops. Hedgerows are laced with elderberries, blackberries and sloes. The last perfectly timed for making special Christmas gin.

Celebrating autumn

Though autumn technically begins on 22 September with the autumn equinox, I like to think of it as beginning on the 1 September. Though few people decorate to celebrate autumn, I have always liked to – not least because it also marks the beginning of a school year and my students enjoyed the changing environment of my home classroom.

Though I have few students now and need to teach on-line, there is nothing to stop me creating my own autumn display and I encourage you to do the same. There is an abundance of beautiful foliage, seed heads and hardy fruits and vegetables that you can decorate with and of course, those rare, delightful autumn blooms.

Bringing nature inside (whatever the season) invariably uplifts us. We do not need to have floristry skills to arrange a bouquet- only a vase. And if our display ends up like a primary school nature table, so what? I like those.

A dear friend in the States always honours every season with elaborate decorations (even when travelling with her job). What appeared, at first, as an adorable idiosyncracy has become a model for living. Making the effort to mark the season in and of itself makes it special. Selecting, picking and arranging flowers and objects makes us focus on their meaning. These little tableaus offer perfect life lessons that we absorb almost unconsciously – and the pleasure of our finished work brings us (and others) joy.

I confess that I now follow her lead shamelessly and look forward to the challenge that each new display brings.

Quiet times

The occasional riotous assemblies of Halloween and Bonfire Night aside, autumn is a quiet time, ripe for reflection and contemplation. The gentle melancholy that accompanies the end of summer is more to be enjoyed than shunned. Just as a picture without shadow has no depth, so a year.

And I like the stillness of the season. We have no great expectations. We require nothing of autumn. If it gifts us with a balmy day, we greet it with gratitude. If we are given rain and drear skies, we try not to complain. Autumn helps teach us acceptance – and we are all the better for it.