Do you call it Fall, from the old Germanic word fallan? Which literally means to “fall,” as in the temperatures or the leaves, or both. Or do you call it Autumn? A prettier word from the Latin autumnus. Still, it’s meaning, “cold,” isn’t so pretty, so I prefer to think of it as Mr. Tumnus’s namesake season.
Whichever term you use, there’s a good chance it’s your favorite season (it is mine). And it’s here! Sort of here. September is like a potluck supper—hit or miss. But no matter what the barometer says, the leaves still begin to turn. And so do our thoughts: to homemade cocoas or pumpkin-spice lattes, or sipping fortified eggnogs while reading and whisky-dozing by a fire, with a non-shedding cat or hypo-allergenic dog on your lap.
Do you long for it like I do, and then mourn its untimely passing? Or do you comfort yourself with the thought that “Christmas is coming”? But I’m getting ahead of myself. Hurry up, Fall. And then stick around for a while!