Maybe it’s the contrast from a very hot, dry summer, but it feels like Mother Nature has flipped a switch and turned fall on in an instant. Suddenly the mornings are cooler, the days shorter, and the gardens are fading. I know the colours will soon follow. I can already see hints of it in the viburnum leaves by the fire pit.
And while part of me isn’t ready to say goodbye to sandals and watermelon, the truth is… I am ready for my favourite things about autumn.
Sure, I’ll happily grab a cozy sweater and even sip on the occasional pumpkin spice something-or-other, but my real favourite parts of fall? They’re a little different than the usual pumpkin-scented hype.
Slowing Down
Spring and summer feel like a marathon of activity. Planting then tending gardens, mowing lawns, family gatherings, and that long list of outdoor jobs we swear we’ll “get to this year.” It’s all fun, but … it’s a lot.
When autumn finally settles in, it feels like the season itself hands me a permission slip to slow down. I can take a deeper breath. I don’t feel guilty (or at least not as guilty) if I spend an afternoon reading a book or wandering around with a cup of tea in hand.
It’s funny – days are literally shorter, yet they somehow feel longer. Maybe it’s the slower pace of simple living. Maybe it’s that I’m no longer mentally counting how many hours of daylight I have left to get everything done. Or maybe it’s just that once the cicadas quiet down and the school buses are back on the road, time itself exhales.
When our kids were in school, fall meant a rush of backpacks, lunch prep, and all that goes with that stage. These days, it’s a lot quieter. And let me tell you – quiet is its own kind of delicious.
A Time to Gather
Fall is nature’s harvest festival.
I spent one Sunday elbow-deep in the garden tidy up: carrots, beets, beans, and tomatoes. It wasn’t a complete wind down though, I also planted some cool weather crops like kale and spinach. By the end of the day, I looked like I’d lost a fistfight with an ink pad.
Farmers are out there combining and hauling in crops, squirrels are busy cramming nuts and seeds into every possible hiding place, and the birds at my feeder are eating like it’s an all-inclusive resort before their long flights south. Everyone, everywhere, is gathering.
There’s something comforting about being part of that bigger rhythm of life in the woods. Even if my “harvest” is only enough carrots to fill a roasting pan and some slightly wonky tomatoes – if they ever ripen, I still feel like I’m taking part in something ancient. It’s a reminder that for centuries, this time of year has been about storing up for the season ahead.
Of course, in our modern world, “gathering” might also mean filling the freezer with discounted turkeys or stocking the pantry with staples and coffee to ride out a Canadian winter. No one wants to run out of coffee on the first day of a “who knows how long” winter storm!
A Time to Nourish
Summer food is fresh, bright, and juicy. Fall food is hearty, rich, and earthy.
It’s like nature changes the menu without asking us. One week you’re craving watermelon, the next you’re roasting squash and dreaming about apple crisp. It’s a shift from cooling, light foods to those that fill you up and warm you through.
Kale, beets, sweet potatoes, apples, cabbages, pears – the grocery aisles and farmers’ markets practically shout “comfort food.” Even soups get an upgrade in fall. A light summer gazpacho is fine, but let’s be honest – it’s no match for a steaming bowl of butternut squash soup with a hunk of crusty bread.
And the timing is perfect. Just as the weather cools, nature hands us foods that can actually last through the winter. Those early spring greens? Not a chance. But a box of potatoes in the cold room? They’ll see you through. Squash lined up like soldiers in the pantry? Practical and decorative.
I sometimes think seasonal living is designed to give us exactly what we need, right when we need it. Either that, or nature just wants to give us an excuse to bake more pies.
Planning Winter Projects
Now, before you get the wrong idea – there’s still plenty to do outside before winter hits – like the forest clean-up we’re procrastinating on. In my fantasy world, I’m totally ready before the first snow. In reality? I’ll be the one in November muttering about planting garlic and scrambling to put away flower pots while snowflakes fall.
Still, my brain has already started shifting indoors. The list of possible winter projects grows by the day:
- Paint that last room.
- Build a foyer bench.
- Crochet a blanket before my yarn stash takes over the crawlspace.
- Finally sort through those bins we moved from the cottage and swore we’d “deal with later.”
It’s been two years. If I haven’t used something in that time, it’s probably not a “precious heirloom” after all. It’s time to be ruthless – or at least go through the stuff and be decisive. I’m excited to tackle the job, which probably makes me weird. (Or maybe it just makes me someone over 50. Purging clutter gets suspiciously fun at this age.)
And then there are the cozier projects: more writing, sewing, maybe even baking experiments that I’ll regret when I have to clean the oven.
Cool Walks and Fallen Leaves
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved the sound of leaves crunching underfoot. I may not jump into leaf piles anymore (possibly because we don’t have enough deciduous trees to make a pile from), but I absolutely still kick and swish my way through them on walks.
There’s nothing quite like those golden autumn days: some leaves still clinging to the trees, the sun shining bright enough to warm your back, but the air carrying that unmistakable crispness. Everything smells earthy and smoky and somehow warm, even if you can see your breath.
Those are my favourite days for a hike in the woods. Though, let’s be honest, I take them carefully now – because fallen leaves are sneaky. They hide rocks, roots, and holes just waiting for me to trip. (I have enough clumsy stories. I don’t need another one involving a dramatic leaf pile face-plant in the back woods.)
Some days, the couch calls louder than the trail. But without fail, once I lace up my shoes and step outside, I’m glad I went. That’s the gift of living with the seasons – you discover that every walk feels different, depending on what the forest floor has decided to throw under your feet.
Fall Colour Drives
And while walking through the woods is my favourite way to take in the season, sometimes it’s nice to trade hiking boots for a car ride and let the scenery roll by. One of my favourite parts of autumn is hopping in the car and going for a fall colour drive.
There’s something about winding roads lined with maples on fire with reds and golds that makes you feel like you’re driving through a painting. Meaford, Thornbury and the Beaver Valley area are remarkable for fall colour displays. I’ll admit, I’m the person pointing out the trees every five seconds – “Look at that one! No wait, that one!” – while Brian politely keeps his eyes on the road. It’s the kind of outing that doesn’t require much more than a full gas tank, a thermos of coffee, and a willingness to pull over for “just one more photo.” Of course, whether I’m on foot or behind the wheel, those brilliant colours seem to glow even brighter on the rare warm days of fall – which makes me appreciate them all the more.
Appreciating the Warm Days
Here’s the funny thing: we just survived one of the hottest, driest summers I can remember. Logic says I should be thrilled by cooler temperatures. And I am – sort of.
But nothing feels quite as precious as a warm, golden fall day after a stretch of rain and chill. It’s like a gift. You throw open the windows, maybe sneak in a deck coffee, and soak it up knowing it won’t last.
In July, 30 degrees feels oppressive. In October, 20 degrees feels like winning the weather lottery.
That contrast is what makes seasonal living so magical. It teaches you to savour the fleeting. To really notice the good days, because you know they’re numbered. And isn’t that kind of the point of all seasons? To remind us that nothing lasts forever, so we’d better enjoy it while it’s here?
Bonus Favourite: Cozying In
This isn’t on my original list, but I can’t leave it out. Fall is also the season of cozying in.
Falling asleep the first night with the warm duvet on the bed. The smell of stew simmering. The ridiculous joy of pulling on fuzzy socks and realizing you don’t actually have to go anywhere.
It’s a nesting season, plain and simple. And even though winter comes with its own set of headaches (snowblowers, ice scrapers, frozen noses), fall gives us a gentle on-ramp. It eases us into the idea of being indoors more, of finding comfort in smaller things.
Closing Thoughts
I’ll admit, I wasn’t ready to let summer go. But fall is here whether I’m ready or not. And when I pause to notice – really notice – it’s full of gifts too.
A slower pace, richer food, gatherings that feel meaningful, projects that excite me and walks that remind me to look up and breathe deep.It’s not about pumpkin spice lattes (though no judgment if that’s your thing). It’s about the richness, the grounding, the cozy transitions that make this season so worth celebrating. So yes, summer girl that I am, I’ll happily pull on my sweater, crunch through the leaves, and say: Welcome back, fall. I missed you. And I’ll say that about winter and spring too.
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