Fall is coming.
I used to be a summer girl. God, I loved those sun-soaked days that stretched long into night. Sundresses. Summer vacation. Outdoor dining on patios strung with little lights. Picnics along the river. The days felt like possibility, potential, promise. Giddy, sparkling light diffused through a gossamer haze. I can romanticize just about anything, even the dog days of summer.
But like the seasons, I’ve changed. It happened slowly, and sometimes quietly, in barely perceptible ways. Other times, in undeniable fits and starts. The giddy, sparkling shine has evolved into something softer, deeper, and wiser—candlelight in cool, misty fog. I still adore summer, but in autumn I’ve found a spirit remarkably kindred to my current phase of life.
Bubbly-drinked afternoon picnics become hot chocolate mornings in Adirondack chairs. Sundresses give way to cardigans with elbow patches. Twinkle-lit patios darken into candlelight and firelight. Books get longer and heavier. I retreat.
Autumn is quiet reverence, introspection, wisdom. She balances light and dark, warm and cool, joy and contemplation. Autumn glows from within. She is not concerned with potential, only presence.
As I do with most things in life, I create rituals that steep me in the spirit of each season. I do not know how many I’ll get, and I refuse to let a single one pass by without honoring and enjoying it deeply. How many autumns will be mine? Which will be my last? I cannot know, and that means I willingly give myself over to the absolute wonder that is this season.
These are some of the little rituals that dot my days and nights with autumn-tinged moments.
A slow drive through the country, jazz on the radio, hot cider in a thermos.
Sipping coffee in a café, gazing out at falling leaves and golden light.
A picnic in the woods, or under blankets in Adirondack chairs next to a lake or firepit. Creamy cheeses, prosciutto, rosemary crackers, jam, mustard, and olives. A crisp IPA, lush pinot noir, or rich chicory tea.
Transitioning my closet. Cleaning and putting away my summer clothes, and re-acquainting myself with my cold-weather wardrobe. It feels like greeting old friends after months away.
Making inspiration boards for autumn, Halloween, spells and rituals, fall and winter outfits, home decor, and comfort food.
Going apple picking with loved ones, and eating cider donuts dusted with sugar and cinnamon.
Baking fall treats: molasses cookies, apple crumb, coffee cake, pumpkin pie.
I love the sound of football in the background, it reminds me of my childhood. I’ll happily spend hours in the kitchen baking bread and making soup or risotto with the sound of whistles and referees as my soundtrack.
Curling up under a blanket to watch a fall movie. I have a long list of movies by season, and some of my favorites for autumn are Practical Magic, Scent of a Woman, Rushmore, Beetlejuice, Moonstruck, and Witches of Eastwick.
Long walks with the dogs, listening to the leaves rustle, feeling the cool air on my skin, smelling the woodsmoke from brick chimneys, and gazing at the trees in shades of orange, yellow, and red. I let the season overtake my senses.
An afternoon bubblebath on a moody day with a deep chill in the air. Paired with a fall-scented candle and a fluffy robe to shrug into.
Yours, settling in . . .
Kelley