It’s August and I’m already starting to feel haunted. While science may declare it nonsense, there’s a feeling in the air—particularly in the early morning—that tells us the seasons are changing. While it may be different for everyone, for me it begins in the tip of my nose. I can smell the change coming. That doesn’t mean that we won’t have more hot days—a long string of them yet awaits—but the shift has begun. Autumn is perhaps the season closest to the soul. While I like all seasons for what they represent, fall has always put me in mind of melancholy rapture. It’s a difficult concept to explain, a kind of blissful evisceration. A hitching of the breath in my lungs. A sudden rush of joy followed by sadness. The ease of summer living is ending.
Summer is the growth season when we look out and see the promise of provisions that will see us through long months of cold and chill. The times we huddle down only to be blinded by the arctic beauty of the sun on a snow-covered day. The indoors time. Summer is when we can dash outside without a coat, giving no thought to whether we will be warm enough. The scent of autumn is a slight chill. It reminds me that while the crops have been growing, the monsters have too. There’s a reason horror films are released in the fall. I’m not the only one who knows they are coming.
Late summer is a liminal time. While the calendar may tell us summer lasts until the autumnal equinox, traditional cultures marked time in a different way. Equinoxes and solstices were closer to the middle of a season than its start. Most years we begin to feel summer in May, or even April. Winter cuts through November, and the thaw may begin as early as February. When I step outside just after sunrise and breathe deeply, I can feel the monsters coming. In a way I can’t explain, their lurking fills me with a frisson of anticipation. Already the days are noticeably shorter. Daylight itself seems to be fleeing before the ethereal chill that is still available in our rapidly warming world. The seasons are all about feelings. Emotions suffuse the changes of weather and human habits that accommodate to it. There are shivers and then there are shivers that the creatures of autumn bring. They’ve already begun to gather.
3 thoughts on “August Mornings”