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Written by Joan Eison
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As the long, humid days of summer wane and the distance grows between
the day time highs and the cooler evening temperatures, my senses
become attentive in ways that have been lulled by the thick, languid
summer air. Once sleepy and slow from the summer heat, new energy
rushes and rises throughout my body. The sheer pleasure of the crisp,
newness of autumn invites me to drink it in and play.
My skin welcomes the fall breeze, its weight and texture so distinct
from the clammy, stickiness of summer air. This air feels thin and
light, barely brushing my face like a cluster of small feathers wisping
by. Now and then threads of cold air travel the same pathway and the
tiny arm hairs on my skin stand up in surprise. Arms that have been
sleeveless and bare for months reach for an old, familiar denim shirt.
My neck and shoulders, tanned by the summer sun, now hide beneath
turtleneck shirts and long sleeves. Toes, so used to hanging over the
edge of sandals seek refuge in socks and closed-toed shoes.
Mother Nature and human nature express sounds differently in different
seasons. In harmony with the sensory experience of my skin, my ears
tune to the sounds of fall. Insect sounds abound in summer, the buzzing
of grape-sized, big-eyed flies, nectar-laden bees and the orchestration
of evening frogs.Windows closed to keep the hot air out and cool air in
muffle voices and sounds. Yet, in the fall windows open and voices
travel. Neighbors and car wheels on gravel are heard once again.
Strollers, walkers and dog walkers who shied away from the hundred
degree heat parade the neighborhood as their furry friends joyously
lead them forward. Take an evening drive down a rural road and your
eyes will wonder at banks of tall flood lights. When the roar of the
crowd meets your ears, you’ll recognize the united voices of fields of
fans responding to the thrill and the agony of high school football
games. Across the country, state fairs pronounce fall’s arrival. If the
first cold winds blow just right, you will hear the shouts of happy
fair-goers atop the Ferris wheel. Should your travels take you within
two miles of the site, the familiar smells of cotton candy and deep fat
fryers will confirm to your senses that, indeed, the season has changed.
Summer air is heavy with the perfume of blooms and pollen. Her scents
are bold and profuse. Fall is more subtle, musky and damp, like the
faint smell of piles of leaves from shedding trees. It calls me to be
quiet on a cool, rainy afternoon in a comfortable chair with a soft
afghan and a good book. Evening is announced by the unmistakable smell
of burning logs and curls of smoke escaping from neighbors’ chimneys
which beckon me to put on the tea kettle or stir hot chocolate in a
tall mug.
The tastes of fall are warm and pungent--homemade soups, deep dish
pies, thick stews and sweet sausages. Beautiful apples, pears and
pumpkins, products of the harvest, are baked in cinnamon, butter and
brown sugar. Punctuate a cool, fall evening with a slice of homemade
apple pie topped by vanilla ice cream, followed by a hot cup of coffee
and your senses may explode from the sheer joy of it.
Summer’s rich canopy of green leaves shading the earth gradually turns
to vibrant hues of gold, bronze, orange, red and sienna. Like charms on
a bracelet, the leaves on trees turn and tingle from green to gold as
the days unfold. Fall is vivid in color and sensory stimulation. The
reds are as full bodied as a carafe of burgundy wine and as startling
as droplets of fresh blood. The wetter the fall the more vibrant the
pallet. A weekend in the mountains or an afternoon on the Blue Ridge
Parkway is almost too much for a pair of eyes and a camera to capture.
Mile after mile the words of the poet, Edna St. Vincent Millet,
reverberate in your thoughts.
O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!
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