Even if I had been born in the summer – or named… Becky – fall would still be my favorite. I like sweaters and boots and very few things in life please me as much as vivid orange and red against a blue sky with puffy little scenic clouds.
I prefer the cooler weather. I prefer the more measured pace of life. I FAR prefer the sun coming up at a reasonable hour once DST is banished once more. I find a simple stroll through a leafy trail much more satisfying. I have a theory that part of the reason we like dappled light so much is because it closely mimics the way we perceived light in the womb.
It is also a time when shadow work feels more straightforward. Not easier per se, just… simpler. Somehow sitting in the full light of a sweltering bright day asking my tarot cards what part of me needs healing feels asynchronous, at best. There is something about the turn of the season where the veil is thinning that feels most appropriate to try and see through the dimness – both literal and figurative.
This year the Samhain season takes on more meaning. Until this summer, I have never lost someone to death that I cared deeply about. While I don’t want to contact my mother (she would only be vexed I was trying to reach her) I do find great meaning in dwelling on her memory; In imagining my own future as I age and eventually pass. She was only 20 years older than I am and given how quickly the last 20 years have sped by, I am conscious, perhaps for the first time, of how little time that really is.
So I understand in a new and particular way that I will only see so many more of these seasons, and it is my task to embrace each moment of delight I encounter.
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