Since a child I have always loved autumn. The Fall Harvest commences, and the food gives way to things such as acorn squash. The long, hot days of Summer fade into the longer, cooler nights of Fall. High in the sky, geese squawk as they head south.
However, for some when the fruit falls from the tree and the green fades to reds and browns, it’s a time of melancholy. Not me. The glorious yellows and oranges of the fall leaves seem to awaken something in me. A stirring that this time of year we best make haste to make merry for before the deep snows of winter arrive. Or perhaps the Fall holidays are responsible. Halloween and Thanksgiving were happy times in my childhood. Spooky decorations, delicious food, and fun times with family were what it was about. Even one of my favorite books is set during the autumn. The Dragons of Autumn Twilight.
This is also a time of balance. Autumn in the north, Spring in the south. The sun enters Libra, the sign of balance. On September 29th, people celebrate the Feast of Saint Michael. Michael holds the scales of divine justice. Everything is in harmony. The time of evenlength, ȝevelengðhe in Old English. Thanks to the Clerk of Oxford for that tidbit.
I’ll leave off here with a poem from Walter de la Mare (1873-1956), English writer, most famous for his ghost stories and children’s poetry.
The LAST ROSE OF SUMMER
The passing of no other season evokes such melancholy.
NOW
The longed-for summer goes;
Dwindles away
To its last rose,
Its narrowest day.
No heaven-sweet air but must die;
Softlier float
Breathe lingeringly
Its final note.
Oh, what dull truths to tell!
Now is the all-sufficing all
Wherein to love the lovely well,
Whate’er befall.