I know I tend to get rather depressed this time of year as well. I never did before -- and I will apologize now to all the Southern hearts who visit here -- but autumn in our part of Mississippi seems to bring on more melancholy for me than the burst of spirit and renewing of energy I have always had during this season any place else.
There are wonders in autumn in Mississippi, don't get me wrong, but my heart lies in the north, the midwest. I have always been an autumn and winter person. The end of September always brought such joy -- farm fields stretching for miles across the land, all brown and white and ready for harvest. The depth of color in those browning dried corn stalks is unmatched anywhere else.
And the barn! Oh I know folks who aren't used to a barn in autumn and winter just. Won't know what I'm rambling about, but there is a smell inside the barn that only comes with autumn's cooler weather. LOL...yes yes, I know...'of course there's a smell in the barn silly' but I'm talking nice smells :o)
Autumn here on our current homestead brings mildew and mud most often. And we need that rain, I'm not complaining really. I just need to gravel or cement several walkways is all :o( it has rained here, every single day or night (usually both!) since the 4th of September. And there just isn't the color changes we have up north. The trees aren't as interested in putting on their end of year show around here. Lack of cooler temps might be a part of it, and the fact that Mississippi is just plain covered up in cedars and pines probably has something to do with it as well.
It's just my personal vision of autumn, I guess. There is a distinct pulse to every season no matter where you live, north, south, or even in the desert climes. My pulse beats to an autumn change that I no longer see or take part in. It brings on a touch of nostalgia for me. I long to see those fields filled with big green combines (ok, red if that's what you prefer). I long to see the fence row trees dance with a beautiful mixture of golds, russets and deep rich reds. I miss the crisp mornings ladened with dew and foggy mists. That walk to the barn in early morning over leaves that crunch under your boots. Those wonderful scents when you enter the barn...the goats, the chickens, the hay and feed...it's all blended together in the cool air to give a musk of autumn sort of scent.
I know I lament these same rambles every autumn on the calendar, but back north, it's autumn without the calendar speaking so. I almost need the calendar page to chime its dates here. Knowing my remembrances of autumns past, you also know that around November I begin again, with the pulses that bring crackling fires, steel grey skies and the frost circles of window panes.
I don't know that I'm simply not *made* backwards, actually. Bears hibernate come winter, but me, I tend to go into my hearts hibernation as Spring draws in around me. I thrive inthe autumn and winter, and wane terribly in spring and summer. I am very much out of my element in the South in summertime. Honestly, I was never much of one to thrive well back north in summer either.
It's just not where I find my stregth, my life pulse.
I read this quote on a blog this morning and certainly if I had a verse of enduring lifeforce, this would be it.
"I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air."- Nathaniel Hawthorn
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