Fall has arrived and that familiar chill is in the air. The sunlight is golden yellow, the sun is rising and setting a little farther to the south each day, and the warm days are cut with a wind that brings winter toward us. As if on cue, it was dark this morning when my alarm-clock woke me. The spring and summer mornings of waking up to a light-filled room, walking into a bright cheery kitchen to put the coffee on, are now waning away. I might still see that light on weekends, but Monday to Friday I'll wake up in increasing darkness, force myself out of a cozy bed to turn the kitchen lights on, pour the coffee and watch the steam rise out of the mug.
Autumn days always make me nostalgic. I think it's a nostalgic season in general. It's the beginning of Nature's hibernation - the lead-up to the four month sleep from December to March, the beginning of the time to rest. I am always torn between a love for the colder months, bundling up, cold winter-morning light and frost on the windows, and an inexplicable sadness for the waning sun, the turning leaves, the summer left behind. It's a season of memories, the light slanting in the windows bringing up thoughts of times long past, having a peculiar similarity to the light in dreams and recollections.