The glory of autumn
A lot of people had told me in the summer to enjoy it while it lasted. As someone new to Alberta, I now understand what they meant.
I’d known that the transition between summer and autumn was really abrupt. My neighbour even joked about it, saying to me that it was “like a switch that gets flipped that makes it go from 28 to eight.”
But even knowing what was coming wasn’t enough to totally insulate me from the bewilderment I felt the other morning, waking up to see everything coated in a gauzy, hoary layer of frost. It was something of a chilly slap in the face.
There were plenty of signs it was on the way – the most obvious of them being the leaves turning, the vent above my couch shuddering to life as the furnace switched on, and the unusually persistent bite in the air every morning before it warmed up.
As much as I enjoyed the languid, hot, dry summer, I can say that I enjoy fall just as much. Suddenly the same old walk around town or down the trail I’d taken on occasion throughout the summer became a novel experience, as the world changed from a few greens into everything from brown to red and everything in between.
As the days shorten, and in spite of not looking forward to the winter, I find myself anticipating more displays of the beryl-colored northern lights – something I still find exciting. As the temperatures start to drop, I look forward to throwing on my trusty old leather jacket before I run off to work or to travel, and being able to enjoy a steaming cup of coffee all the more, it being such a contrast to the temperature outside.
Nothing is more gratifying than a blistering-hot dark roast on a chilly day.
As much as I liked the long summer days, it’s intriguing to see the weather and conditions change as variably and quickly as they do. I can step into the newsroom, coming in from what looks like the makings of a thunderstorm, only to reemerge into a breezy sunny day.
Bonfires are great on summer nights, but there’s something all the better about them when it’s actually cold enough to necessitate lighting one for more than just a cooking fire. There’s no better excuse to sip on beers that are darker in color and bolder in taste, than a dipping thermometer, setting aside the pale lagers and lighter wheat brews associated with the summer months.
I find myself cooking spicier, stronger meals when I start seeing more frost and putting on more layers. There’s something refreshing about it all – something exciting.
Another thing the transitional seasons bring out in me is creativity. I like to write in my free time too, and when the beautiful orchestrated chaos of the autumn’s weather in Canada whirls around outside, I find all kinds of interesting and powerful creative compulsions take over in my mind.
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