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| photo from stocksnap.io |
I love autumn. Ever since the day many years ago when I decided that the best way to curb my impulse to begin listening to Christmas music in September was to fall in love with fall. And it's been a glorious relationship.
Sure, I'm all about wearing flannel, sprinkling nutmeg in my coffee, lighting candles, eating pumpkins, and sipping hot cider on cool, crisp evenings. But this morning as I was thinking about autumn (while drinking nutmeg coffee from an orange mug), another reason struck me. Autumn is when things start slowing down and dying. Stick with me here.
Winter can feel desolate after everything has been dead for a while, though there's beauty in the barrenness. Spring offers the excitement of new life and fresh growth. Summer tends to feel far more frantic than refreshing. But autumn brings those oppressive temperatures to an end. Autumn offers festive hay rides, cozy campfires, and bountiful harvests. As leaves begin their vibrant death, then flutter to the earth, autumn reminds me of the beauty often found in endings.
I am pretty awesome at taking on new things, over-committing myself to too many good things, and placing too many expectations on myself. I'm significantly less awesome at recognizing when it's time for something to end (whether that's an unhealthy expectation, a pleasant commitment, or a season of pain), helping it die in a beautiful way, and then letting it go.
So I love that autumn reminds me to slow down, to put some things to rest, to let go, and to enjoy that mug of cider as its spiced steam swirls up into the crisp night air.