Late autumn to mid-spring is my favourite time of the year. While many people from the Northern Hemisphere at the moment are embracing the growth, rebirth and resetting of spring launching into summer, here in Australia the days are getting colder and more restful as we switch gears from the heat of summer to the cold of winter.
Each seasonal cycle has its lessons and teachings, and autumn specifically I think is all about letting go, winding down and readying for a dormant period of rest and renewal. When I go wandering in nature, what I can take in with my available senses signals to me that autumn is well underway and winter is coming.
So sit back with your favourite warm drink while I take you, for a moment, out of the chaos and craziness of events and into the beauty of late autumn.
Letting go is beautiful and necessary
I don’t think it’s too much of a coincidence that my first and second relationships both ended in April, smack bang in the middle of autumn, a time I associate with letting go.
At the time, trees with strong foundations and established root structures were letting go of their beautiful bright leaves all around me, letting go of those leaves that were no longer necessary for each tree’s growth.
Each autumn, the trees teach me to ask:
- What would it be in my best interests to let go of to conserve my precious energy?
- What can I drop that no longer serves me?
- What burdens do I need to shed to simplify my life?
When the leaves that have fallen to the ground naturally break down, they’ll provide necessary nutrients to the tree and the surrounding area, allowing it to grow stronger. The tree remains stable in the ground, knowing that it will be able to produce more leaves for coverage, and maybe even flowers and fruit, when the time is right for that specific tree.
Taking a leaf out of a tree’s book (pun intended), asking the questions mentioned above with gentle curiosity allows me to let go simply and effortlessly to grow stronger in the future. It’s a beautiful and necessary process for the continual thriving of the tree and of me.
Late autumn is a time of winding down and readying for rest
As the trees let go of their beautiful autumn leaves, it seems that the whole earth (in the Southern Hemisphere now anyway) is slowing down and taking on a gentler pace in readiness for the coming winter.
As we head into winter, I can feel the atmosphere shifting as I go on my outdoor walks. There’s a chill and crispness in the air. Heading into the most feminine time of the year, I feel it’s a time for becoming receptive, nurturing, paying close attention to the cycles and flowing with them, listening, and introspection.
We don’t expect a fruit tree to be producing fruit all year round, so I don’t know where we got the notion that we have to be productive all year round in all seasons and all cycles. Every tree and every person has their own blooming time perfect for that individual.
Late autumn teaches me that we need to honour those cycles and value the resting and recharging times as much as we value the productive and fruitful times.
What I can see:
- Beautiful bright autumn leaves in red, orange, yellow, and golden brown tones.
- My nectarine tree’s leaves are turning yellow and dropping to the ground, while my apple tree is full of apples ready to harvest and enjoy – each has their own season and perfect blooming and fruitful time.
- The leaves of the blueberry bush are turning a deep reddish purple.
- The sky alternates between cloudy and dark, to patches of sunshine and blue during the day.
What I can hear:
- Breezes that rustle stubbornly clinging leaves from trees onto the ground. The rustling of the leaves along the ground is a distinguishing sound of autumn.
- Rain falling with varying heaviness on different surfaces, each surface producing a different sound in response.
- The last of the feijoa fruits falling to the ground with a gentle thump muffled by the bed of leaves.
What I can feel and touch:
- Winter is coming – it’s in the air when I walk and in the unpredictable skies that can be cloudy one minute and sunny and blue the next.
- The sun’s warmth on my skin and the simultaneous coolness hanging in the air.
- My cat Sophie’s fur as it bristles up on the colder days – I can also feel her warmth as she snuggles into bed with me at night, and her weight as she takes every opportunity to sit on my lap.
- Under my bare feet I can feel the crunching leaves or the cool grass still damp.
What I can smell:
- The epitome of autumn, especially late autumn, that many people talk about is that ‘autumn smell’: the dank mustiness of decomposing leaves on the ground. It doesn’t sound nice at all, but on my walks it’s one of the many things I love about autumn.
- As I write this Sophie is sitting outside on her cardboard scratching wave sniffing the air – there must be a lot more to smell in autumn than I can detect.
- Winter’s impending arrival on the air as the breezes become chillier and the air becomes crisper.
Final thoughts
There is so much beauty to experience in late autumn that can teach us so much. I’d love to hear your quiet and curious thoughts about late autumn, whether you love this seasonal time as much as I do or any lessons, teachings or messages that you’ve received from nature in whatever form. Feel free to contact me at [email protected].
Enjoy the season that you’re in and take care,
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