The Beauty of the Changing Season

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The Beauty of the Changing Season

Winter; too cold. Spring; too rainy. Summer; too hot. Fall; perfection. All year I wait for the comfort of fall. I wait for the yearly changes, from the bone-cracking cold of winter that seems to steal your thoughts from anything of importance, to the smoldering heat of summer, bent on complicating even the simplest of tasks. I wait for fall, that time of the year when everything seems to slow down and bring back the sweetest of my memories.
Fall arrives subtly and quietly. The early morning fog seems to creep in gently, throwing a filter over the otherwise blistering sun that plagues my summer. The misty mornings provide a delicate blanket that aides in the change from a suffocating and smothering heat to an encompassing blanket of cool protection and comfort. A comfort that stays with me until the abrupt end of Thanksgiving break. However, fall has an air of comfort that goes beyond its weather. Everything slows down, the bustle of summer that is urged by the berating and burning sun is gone and fall acts as a calming cushion before the bombardment of Yuletide scrambling. Also, the beauty of the season has a calming reaction unlike any other.
Fall’s seemingly haunting beauty, in my mind, has nothing to do with Halloween. All the trees go through a splendid change. They transform from a lush green to a deep scarlet; the color of ripe pomegranate, a rustic orange, and to the most exquisite and stately gold. The most beautiful event imaginable is when the wind blows through the trees, rustling and disturbing its fragile balance. The outcome of the quiet wind creates a nearly bare tree. In fall, it is not an image of sadness and death, but a promise of a new beginning. The falling leaves thrown against the brisk and clear backdrop of the season is something magical, they descend exposing the great core of the tree and covering the solid ground. The fallen leaves beneath bring about a pathway of brown, orange, red, and yellow; and the coiling wind arranges these few, discarded colors and their varying hues into a kind of pattern. A pattern of well-organized chaos that contains a certain unintentional and surprising perfection. The magnificence of the drifting leaves’ end displayed before the onlooker makes one almost wary to ruin such a pathway. One could even compare the floating leaves of autumn to good ideas waiting to be considered, for the wind stirs my imagination, as well as, the foliage below.
The combination of fall’s captivating beauty, heartwarming comfort, and its unblushingly abrupt changes seem to be the only thing on my mind when faced with the other seasons. I try with great effort and perhaps with good reason to capture and keep its otherworldly effects all through the year. Fall stimulates within me a certain creativity because of its abundance of inspiration. All of my most treasured memories seem to be locked inside the very idea of the breathtaking and enchanting season.

Created: Jul 29, 2010


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