The fall equinox came a few weeks ago. It is officially autumn by the calendar as well as in the air. I think about changing seasons these days since I live again in an ecosystem that has such marked variations. Fall begins in early September in the mountains, October in the Midwest, and November in North Carolina.
Fall follows a progression. Signs of fall are understated at first. No changing leaves or evident sky changes, but the subtleties of all senses become magnified over time. The emotions I feel are often a combination of loss and gratitude as intimations of autumn turn into the beginning of winter.
Leaves are one the first signs of fall for me. As I walk on the trails, I hear the change in the sounds of the aspen leaves still on the trees. The summer’s clear wind driven soothing, rubbing sounds starts to become a dry rustling chatter even though the leaves have not changed color. They eventually begin to change color. The brilliant golds, oranges, and sometimes reds of the aspens that dot the hillsides in the park are breath-taking. Walking in a small grove of aspen trees is like walking in “yellow” until leaves let go to dance toward the waiting earth.
Sometimes early in the fall, I hear the faint sound of a young bull elk whose aspirational bugling is good practice but offers few opportunities. That cacophony of bugles reaches an apex in late September and dwindles into October as the rut concludes and elk resume their “normal” behavior.
Most notable as a sign of fall is the change in lighting. Days become shorter as the sun rises later in the morning and sinks below the purple mountains earlier in the evening.
Fall brings the end of most flowers. However, Albert Camus noted, “Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” Leaves are the fall flowers. This season also offers edible opportunities such as raspberries and choke cherries. I sample some of them but leave them mostly for the bears who have something tasty besides the grass and insects they feasted on during the summer. They are in hyperphagia—frenzy eating as much as possible to prepare for winter’s hibernation.
I welcome the fall and all its stages. In the mountains autumn is winding down as winter weather becomes more common. It brings me feelings of loss and gratitude. The letting go of summer is sometimes hard as we put the vegetable gardens to bed and note the coming of muted black and white landscapes. I cannot help but feel a loss as plants and animals go into various levels of hibernation.
Yet, I am grateful for everything the land has provided over the summer. I am grateful for the new anticipations fall brings– my birthday, fresh snow, the coming holidays. I balance the feelings of loss with gratitude and look forward to the transition to dimensions of winter.