Autumnal Realizations

With the days getting shorter and the temperatures getting cooler, I’ve been thinking a lot about what Autumn means to me these days.

I used to love Fall.

It always marked a new starting point in my year as a kid. We were going back to school, getting back into the swing of learning things, seeing friends we’d missed all summer, getting back into a seemingly normal schedule with deadlines and assignments. Fall always meant stepping back into that familiar routine, a school-district imposed sense of regularity, structure, and purpose.

But that was when I was a kid. That was the sense of structure that existed in my life for fifteen-plus years, from kindergarten to college. The beginning and end of the school year were the calendar bookends of my existence.

Now I am older.

I’ve been stuck in an 8-to-5 routine of normalcy for almost twenty-five years now, working in a daily job that imposes a year round schedule on my existence, all in exchange for a steady paycheck. I sell my daily hours to keep family sheltered and fed.

This schedule has long since replaced the Fall to Spring scholastic existence of my youth.

So now Fall is less electrifying, less exciting, less full of promise. It’s more poignant, a depressing reminder that summer’s over, winter’s coming. It means getting ready.

It means closing up the camper. It means putting away my motorcycle. It means tossing my sandals into the closet and always wearing a jacket and long pants. And socks.

It means replacing screens with storm windows, raking leaves, and cutting firewood. It means winterizing everything that needs to be winterized in my life, including myself.

Now that I’m older I understand why retirees flock to Florida and Arizona and Texas.

It’s for the year-round summertime.

It’s for the warm weather and sunshine.

It’s for the ability to wear shorts every day (with optional black knee socks and flip flops). It’s for the opportunity to you ride your motorcycle or drive your convertible with the top down every day.

It’s for blue skies and minimal rain; no leaves to rake, no snow to shovel.

Fall no longer means new beginnings to me.

It means sullen endings. It means six months of gloomy weather, a disappeared sun, frigid winds and long nights.

Don’t get me wrong, I like winter well enough for the first week after the first snowfall.

But that’s it. A week. Then I’m ready for summer again. Forget spring, I want to jump right into Summer. I don’t need a transition from cold to hot. Just give me hot.

So that was today’s big realization, a sudden dawning about why Autumn seems so miserable these days, despite an enduring Indian Summer complete with sunny days and still mild temperatures!

The awareness happened as I was closing up the camper for the season and wondered why it felt so depressing, despite the obvious fact that no more camping was planned for our immediate future.

Thinking about it, I remembered how much I loved Autumn as a kid. So why didn’t I love it now? Why did it feel less special than it used to?

Now we know.

And no amount of beautiful Fall foliage will ever equal the enduring allure of sunny skies and pleasant temperatures.

If I want to see leaves change or play in snow I will drive to someplace that has it.

And then I will drive home, back to the sun, once I’ve had my fix. Once I’ve reminded myself why I left Autumn and Winter and Spring in the first place!

Wearing Black Knee Socks With My Flip Flops!