Brace Yourselves


Autumn is coming.

Autumn is coming and I am prepared.

All of my sweaters are condensed into one drawer. A pair of second-hand leather oxford shoes arrived in the mail today. My flannel shirts are hung in my closet with care. I’m knitting a long, warm scarf.

I bought one of those crazy Peruvian patchwork jackets for a fraction of its original cost because the zipper doesn’t zip. I’ve wanted one for years, but didn’t want to shell out the $40 to own one. This one is forest green and orange and pink and covered in vine-like embroidery and looks like fall itself and was only $8. It’s hanging by my door, begging to be worn on long walks and shuffles through heaps of crackling leaves. Who cares if it won’t zip? I never zip my jackets anyway, not unless it’s really cold.

My colorful clogs have been sitting in a bin by the door, waiting. Just waiting.

I’m born again every fall. I write more. I think more. I breathe more. I take more walks. I drink more coffee. I’m freer, wilder. I wear my hair down after months of doing everything in my power to keep it off of my neck. I can see everything more clearly.

Autumn gives me hope.

The air cleans itself up. The sky gets bluer. It’s harder to think about all the awful things going on in the world when it’s autumn.

Autumn has always been about fresh starts and new beginnings. Every school year starts in fall. Every new term starts with a new stack of books and new pens and pencils and notebooks. All those blank pages, so crisp and full of potential. All those heavy books, too thick to devour in one bite, that must be taken in piece by piece until they’re a part of you.

Autumn means new adventures. Although I’ve never done much traveling in Autumn (and I probably never will), my mind travels with a little help from a lot of books, and that is usually enough.

I love Autumn.

Which is why this unrelenting heat is unbearable on almost a spiritual level. It was 95 degrees outside today. Ninety-five. My soul is ready for bonfires and marshmallows and pumpkin spice lattes, and it’s 95 DEGREES OUTSIDE.

But I’m hopeful. It’s supposed to rain next week. Rain means a cold front. Rain means a change in pressure. Rain brings change. Rain brings the autumn.

And I’m ready.


3 responses »

  1. The Dadster Ripostes:

    Yes, my darling and much-beloved Scion: You inherited the (unnamed family) gene.


    In it I was born; in it I revel. It renews my soul and makes me skip like a lamb over the hills.

    I yearn with my whole soul for autumn. I breathe–BREATHE–for the first time in months.

    I skip.

    I delight.

    Let it come, with its chilly mornings and blasting winds and frigid nights.

    Let it come, with its spooky sounds and silvery moons.

    Let it come, with the promise of wintry evenings and crackling fires and red and gold and russet leaves tumbling down like manna from heaven.

    And may we all remember that the Holy God of Heaven Himself ordained that the seasons should come.

    Bring it–I’m ready.


    The Dadster

  2. Exactly! The leaves are starting to turn up here and I can’t wait for the cold to come back. The air wakes me up more when you can smell the leaves and feel the chill in it. I tried my first pumpkin spice latte and…it wasn’t too bad XD (sticking with my green tea Frap though. Tradition matters, after all.).
    Might we see pictures of this jacket?

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