Fall is Upon Us, With Its Leaves, The Blues, And Internal Parties

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Leaves, brown and falling. Temps, cool and sane. Light, shorter now, a harbinger.

Blare the trumpets! The season is upon us!

That’s what I say, anyway. Throw in some strings, maybe a little piano. A saxophone. Make it throaty but in a somber sort of way. Although that’s more for mid-season, when the light really does a disappearing act, when throaty music is both an embodiment of the season and a sympathizer to those of us beholden to it.

I love Fall.

I don’t know how far back it goes; that autumn is my favorite of the four seasons, but it’s been a while. I hear this from people sometimes. Oh, Fall is my favorite. That’s when I know we’re mind twins. We understand something others may not. We know autumn is a meta language. It’s as if NOAA was in charge of poetry — of the nostalgic verse.

Yet, as much as I love this brown-toned season, I took a years-long break from my autumnal fandom. The more I grew awareness around my winter seasonal affective disorder (SAD), the more Fall seemed a death knell. How could I be so in love with the beginning of depression? In response, I let my love for the season go and picked Spring as my new favorite annual quarter.

This reminds me of something I wrote last year, about fearing dog ownership. I’ve debated getting a dog now that our two cats have passed. While I don’t want the work of ownership, my main ambivalence revolves around the mourning I’d go through once the dog dies. I’m so apprehensive about the pain that I won’t allow myself the joy.

Returning autumn to most-favored status taught me something about joy despite pain. We lose everything in this life eventually, so we can either sit perfectly still, hold our breath, and not take one chance in life. Or we can live and know all things must pass. It’s a two-way street, but what’s remarkable is how much the one direction strengthens us for the other. Facing loss is easier to weather if I have memories of joy. It’s certainly a baseline to return to. I guess I’d figure it all was worth it.

The one certainty in life is loss. The one choice in life is joy. Joy will come, sure, but sometimes it’s up to us to deliberately choose it.

Life is a two-sided coin with ups and downs, pluses and minuses. The very thing many people gush over during the fall is the thing that can bring irritation, strife, or pain. I’m talking about leaves.

Over here on the eastern side of the U.S., people will travel far to see the leaves change color during this time of year. I’m in Virginia with plenty of fall color, but a pilgrimage north to New England, which boasts remarkable autumnal views, is common. A multi-colored mountainscape can be stunning and, I’m guessing, one of the reasons why this season is so beloved.

However, those crunchy dead leaves aren’t innocent. They require much effort to remove from landscapes, and if you want a hushed and peaceful walk in the woods, forget about it. If you walk a few steps onto a trail covered with freshly fallen brown leaves, you will be certain the woods are screeching. There is no peace.

Fall leaves on a wooded trail can be dangerous if they cover the trail with enough depth. I remember the time I raced against David Goggins. Anyone know him? I guess you could say, technically, I raced against him. I guess you could also say, I coulda been a contender, which is to say, I couldn’t have. It was in 2010. (Fifteen years already??)

It was in the mountains of western Virginia with a midnight start time. Nearly 70 miles, 13.5K feet of elevation gain, December. Hellgate 100k — one of my favorite races. The vibe was fantastic, the night sky gorgeous. But David sprained his ankle good, far ahead in the field from me. The leaves in that race are two or more feet thick on one long stretch of trail. I don’t know how he sprained his ankle, but it would have been so easy to do. You need a sixth sense to navigate a trail like that. This is all thanks to Fall.

A two-sided coin.

Each season is a transition, which is a reminder that this is the way of the world — cycles. In and out. Round and round. A baby born, a person dies. A sun rises, then sets. School begins, then lets out for the summer. A work life begins, then retires. Holidays circle through. The clock, oh the clock.

Again, what shall I choose to focus on? The joys of life, or only the winding down? I choose the former and accept the latter. The trick is not to magnify the latter. Accept the downside and celebrate the upside. I don’t have to focus on the bummer of the seasons: spring storms, summer heat, the fall harbinger of winter blues. I can find ways to cope and then throw a party with the good stuff: spring bloom, summer sun, fall color, winter coziness.

This takes some doing on my part. For me, I take anti-depressants, which help. I get outdoor time, which is the best thing any day of the year, except for the hottest and coldest of them. I exercise. I connect with others and engage in hobbies and interests. I practice gratitude as easily as I brush my teeth (which I do regularly, thankfully.) There are options out there.

This then opens the door to the party I can have with myself during the wind-down. We had a wickedly hot and humid couple of weeks here this past summer. I could have stayed stuck in the suffering, but instead I reveled in the extra time I had to get things done with the time I’d have been walking outside, which was no fun in such heat. Last winter, I made a cozy writing spot in my house with a full-spectrum light, tea, snacks, and a blanket. It was delightful despite the dark days. This fall, I’ve been writing in the early mornings next to an open screen door in my home with coffee and a thin fleece blanket over my legs. I get in bed early so I can rise and shine early during this brown-orange season.

It feels as if I specifically leverage the downside to ramp up the joy. It hasn’t taken much, though it’s taught me much — mainly, that I have agency to flip the coin.

So, here we go. The season is upon us. I can hear the saxophone, as well as the crunch of the leaves underfoot. They make a funny song, but I listen. It’s not bad. The color is spectacular.

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Happy Fall, my friends.