The Fall of the Year

This is our first fall in Atlanta and I wasn’t sure what to expect.  Autumn is my favorite season.  The last five years we were in Memphis and there I wouldn’t call the months of September through November (or December for that matter) “fall”.  But I’ve been pleasantly surprised here.  I’ve noted places to go apple picking next year.  And except for a few days, its not been too cold, in fact, most of October was actually warmer than I would like… but now its perfect sweater weather.  On top of that, we’re getting beautiful color.  The trees are vibrant reds, perfect yellows, and crispy browns. 

Its such a beautiful season and the colors for me really signify change.  Hayden’s circle time has switched to our November poems and songs and I just love the poem by Ellen Robena Field called A Fall Song.  I think I love it more than he does actually.  He tends to prefer our very active Scarecrow, Scarecrow and Three Red Apples. 

A Fall Song has four parts and I love them all, but one of my favorites is this one:

Now the days grow cold,
As the year grows old,
And the meadows are brown and sere;
Brave robin redbreast
Has gone from his nest,
For this is the Fall of the year.

Yes, the year is growing old.  Thanksgiving is only three weeks away and while I’m reveling in the season I’m also a bit sad that things are going by so fast. Hayden’s birthday came so quickly and the day was so busy that I didn’t even have time to blog about it (I’ll be sure to get pictures of it up though.)  And Mason only started crawling a month ago but he’s already working up the courage to stand up and move along the furniture.  So while I sit and sip on hot apple cider (cinnamon stick included) I reminisce and enjoy the season that our lives are in right now- full of pitter patters and bumps, as well as the actual season. 

I hope you’re enjoying your “fall of the year” just as much as I am.

The view out our window.

Autumn Productivity

For some reason, autumn is a time where I’m just itching to be productive.  I get a creative bug and want to do all kinds of things.  (See this post on knitting and sewing.)  The baby blanket and felt birthday crown might be done, but those aren’t the only two projects I’ve got planned.  We went apple picking in Michigan and I’ve been making applesauce.  I would like to get at least two more batches of that made along with some apple pie filling for the freezer.  (And along those lines I’ve got things I need to do, such as make chicken stock and extra meals for the freezer, but those things aren’t near as fun as apple deliciousness.)   I put out all kinds of fall decorations.  I’ve also got scarves and hats to knit for winter wear and I want to make an activity advent calendar for Hayden this year.  In addition to that, I’ve got fabric to make living room curtains, which doesn’t match our walls and so equates to a paint job as well.

What is it about fall that compels me to bring out the sewing machine, cast on the knitting needles, and turn on the crock-pot?  Is there some innate sense that I must get ready for winter like a squirrel gathers its nuts?  It doesn’t sound at all fun or whimsical when I put it that way, but maybe its just a practical natural thing.  A time of preparation for the colder, less vigorous season of the year.  Of course, that preparation isn’t what it used to be in the old days. 

I knit because I enjoy it and love seeing the boys wear something I made, not because its necessary to our survival.  I love the simple joy of opening a jar of my own applesauce up to eat with dinner.  Seeing curtains hanging in my living room that I made would be very satisfying.  And watching Mason cozy up to a blanket that I poured my love into overwhelms me with its sweet tenderness.  Using my (albeit-limited) skills might be some internal instinct to prepare for the upcoming season, but that bit of homemade goodness adds just a little extra touch of heart-warming, home-filling affection and love.  And perhaps that is whimsical.