The Fall Back Position

There are many reasons why I love autumn.  I love Nature’s Technicolor display as my majestic oaks slowly blush, and then lose their leaves.  I do not regret the extra annual expense from our landscape service.  Their weekly mowing job becomes one of finding my lawn under a blanket of spent foliage.  The “fall clean-up” is done at least twice in this season, the first rendered ineffective after only a few hours.  We make fun out of photographing the house after it has been swept and blown clean of leaves—on the lawn, the driveway, the gutters and the roof—and then again two or three hours later, when it is restored to its thickly obscured state.  A newcomer to my home would not know how to find the driveway under the thick padding of leaves.

There is something beautiful and poignant about the sight of Nature’s renewing itself, turning down the temperature while it takes a break from the extremes of summer.  I love the frosty mornings and the promise of soft sweaters.  We begin to sip hot chocolate and mull spiced cider.  Soon, holiday baking begins and the house wafts with aromas like apple pie and gingersnap cookies.  The summer of stir fries and gazpacho gives way to maple glazed butternut squash and a pot of spicy chili.  My slow-cooker resumes its role as workhorse, cranking out week after week of homemade soups, chowders, and bisques.

While summer blinds us with sun, I much prefer the light of autumn.  It is a crisp and true light—not the glare of a neon bulb.  It is a time when greens, yellows and reds are considerably more visible and saturated.  I love to fill my house with green hydrangeas accented with purple and orange flowers and huge bowls of farm-fresh apples.  I am forever arranging and rearranging vignettes upon my kitchen counter, tickling my own fancy with the beauty and flavor of the season.  It is this time of year when I remember why it is that we live in New England.

This weekend we get one of my favorite Fall treats—the opportunity to set back the clocks.  I cherish this weekend each year.  There are few chances in life to turn back time.  I love the luxury this extra hour imparts; it boosts my productivity and allows me to feel as if I have caught up on life.  Fortuitously, the time change brings a splendid morning light, which tends to awaken me extra early.  It is a quiet morning filled with excess electricity.   I am up and dressed and fed with a whole morning ahead in which to tackle bonus activities.  I try to hold onto that invigorating feeling for as long as possible, letting the morning sun fool my body clock for days (and hopefully weeks) to come.

Many people use this time to sleep in—treating it like a $20 bill found in the pocket of an old coat.  I am afraid of the karma that would bring; we are, in fact, robbing Peter to pay Paul.  I am loathe to squander this hour and risk a deficit I cannot repay.  It is not an ‘extra’ hour; rather, it is my hour.  I try to use it as meaningfully as all the others I have left.