Color Before the Dark
As October moves into November, we have the bursts of fabulous color from the trees, a celebration of change of seasons. On our street, we have a few trees on the northwest side that receive the sunlight just so that every year the red leaves make it appear as if they are on fire. Given the heat and dryness of the summer here in Northern Europe, I was not sure how the fall would present itself this year, if it would just be all sad browns. Alas, I am not disappointed: the visual drama of the yellows, oranges, red and even a hint of purple-red is playing out all around me.
What catches my attention is what feels like a sudden contrast. After months spent looking at an almost uniform green setting, the change brings out the contours of nature. Growing up in the hills of Tennessee, I used to love hiking up to a scenic point and looking over the vast expanse of these fall colors extending into the horizon. The Japanese have a word for it, Momijigari, or red-leaf hunting, a tradition more than a thousand years old. And more recently, I came across a study linking images of autumn mountains on screens to feelings of relaxation and calm among young women.
Warming Up
My friends are now exchanging recipes of warming pumpkin and squash soups, and wondering about the wonderful varieties of apples and ways to prepare them. We all fondly remember the discovery of miso-butter on roasted pumpkin that we made together. The fresh food markets are now filled with cactus fruit, purple figs, pomegranate and persimmons (kaki or sharon fruit) — all sharing the same color palette. Soon it will be Thanksgiving in the U.S. and time for my childhood favorites, pumpkin and pecan pies.
Chasing the Light
As the air gets cooler and days get shorter, I see other people like me who rush out when the sun shines. I need to see the sun and take in as much natural light as I can for as long as I can. My Indian body is not made for such dark days. The sunshine is usually only there for a couple of hours at most. The typical autumn days here are wet, windy and overcast for the most part. However, it is perfect weather then to return home for a hot cup of tea, snuggle with a blanket on the sofa, and read a good book.
The time of year brings in the debate about whether SAD (seasonal affective disorder) lamps are effective or not in keeping up one’s spirits as the days are shorter. One friend declares, with great drama, that he must lie under his lamp for at least fifteen minutes a day to keep from “falling into a deep well of sadness.” Another friend has a lamp that serves as an alarm clock, providing a more natural sunrise. The downside for her is that she is not a morning person and this only aids in her staying in bed longer to bask in the light before she needs to deal with the dimness outside. The recommendation I hear most from friends is the Lumie lights, and I must admit I am tempted to use one.
A Season of Beginnings
The curious thing I find about fall is that it often feels more like a beginning rather than an end. I guess I still associate the time of year with the start of the academic school year. The long summer days are a warm memory, and the clocks fall back. The focus turns inward, both physically to the coziness of home and psychologically to our internal or spiritual growth. It is a short period of calm.
For now, I do love to sit outside on the bench, listening to the wind in the dry tree leaves creating a little symphony for the season before we move into the stillness of winter.
How do you mark this change of seasons near a bench? Share your favorite October bench at parkbenchnearme.com/community.