Every autumn, I fall in love with the Northeast all over again.
The dwindling light of the afternoon casting shadows, and highlighting textures that normally go unnoticed. The crispness of the air, the way it smells of earth, and sleep, and smoke. The languid sounds of summer give way to the rush of people hustling, heads down to their destinations. No longer having the luxury of late days filled with sunshine, they are propelled by chill to accelerate. Autumn adds a solemnity to the world. Much like life, it is that added gravitas that allows the colors to pop in brighter contrast to the greying world around it.
Would beauty be appreciated without ugliness? Would pain be tolerable without joy? Is it not the pervasive presence of opposites that make life so rich? Maybe it is the fleetingness of this season that makes us so crazed for it.
I know autumn makes me quiet, it makes me reflect on what is, and what I want to be. Autumn makes me consider the fragility of our temporal surroundings; the constantness of change. Change, with its certainty, a dual tragedy and miracle, that nothing will ever be as it was before, nor will it ever again be as it is now.