On Autumn

There is an aesthetic and a romance to fall that elevates it above other seasons. Spring feels refreshing and hopeful after coming out of the oppressive cold of winter. It is the season when you finally go out into the world, see your new self on the canvas of society, and assess how well you did. Fall is the opposite. It is the season when you must ask yourself what needs to change.

The rapid transition of the outside world—the changing color of leaves followed by their fall—creates a powerful force for transformation, both in mind and spirit. The world is moving forward, and you feel an urge to move with it.

I have been changing since last year’s fall. It’s fair to say that the momentum started then and is still building now. I don’t know how this fall will change me, though I doubt it will be to the same degree.

There is a tinge of sadness as I look to the season ahead, likely because I am still alone. When I reflect on my aloneness as the clock hits five in the late afternoon, I am driven to anger and frustration. That immediate moment is visceral. But when I consider a whole season, I ask myself how much more time I will lose being alone. Another year gone. Another winter in quiet solitude.