I Don't Care If It's Basic, I Love Fall

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Mabon has come and gone, and my eye has turned to the changing leaves. Every morning as I greet students I glance at the distant trees and count the patches of red and yellow amongst the resilient greens. When I walk my dog in the morning I can taste the changing temperatures on the wind. My pup will need his jacket soon. I don't care if it makes me a basic white girl, I love fall.

I love the trees for reminding us that sometimes we need to let go. Letting go can be cold and painful, but it can also be beautiful, golden and dancing in the wind. There is no hesitation in the process, it is simply what must be done to prepare for winter and continue on after. The rustling of their leaves around my feet ask me if I am holding onto anything that is not serving me. 

Every season has weather that appeals to me, but I adore the crisp air that does not quite shut you inside. Large sweaters on cool days are more comfortable for me than a tank top in the 80s ever will be. I bundle up just a little to walk on the trails and take in the smell of decaying leaves. I could be on a fantasy adventure. The sharp air is a signal that the outside world will soon be asleep, but I feel more alive. Say the word, and I could be whisked away to go apple or pumpkin picking. I take an apple to work every day and pour my spouse’s homemade apple syrup over pumpkin pancakes. I save the pumpkin carving for a get together with friends or family, but until that day I glance at the bright orange gourds every morning.

When the season’s fingers on my cheeks have finally become too cold, I light all the warm scented candles and watch the leaves fall from my window, a mulled cider or hot tea in hand. There is no debate between apple or pumpkin spice in my world; I will take both in equal measure until the first snowfall. The food in this season is some of the best. Hearty baked vegetables to wake me up and hot soups to remind my bones that we do not hibernate. The contrast between the chilled outdoors and the warm spices soothe my soul, as the late autumn wind bids me farewell until we meet again.

I don’t care that feeling this deeply about a season could get me called “basic,” because it brings me joy. I feel better when I move with the earth and its seasons, and I am not going to let what someone else thinks mar my happiness. I have also noticed that “basic” is something people just call women for enjoying anything (especially little things) “too much.” I’ve never been able to avoid the judgments of misogyny before, so it would be silly to attempt to now by hiding what puts a light in my eyes. Now, with all of that out of the way, it’s time to take a trip to the apple farm with my spouse. I hope you remember to indulge in a “little thing” that brings you joy today.