Every year, there’s a day in August when the weather is a bit cooler, the birds and cicadas are unexpectedly quiet, and the sunlight feels slightly less direct. Maybe a prematurely fallen leaf crunches underfoot, and the sound and smell of it remind me that Fall is coming. From that point on, something inside me starts to shift and adjust.
For some reason I just can’t help but anticipate the changing of the seasons. It’s not just Fall, either: I eagerly await the first snowflakes that melt as soon as they touch the ground, the first bright green tips of crocus leaves emerging from the soil, and the first lightning bugs blinking at dusk. I know I’m not alone in marking the changing seasons in this way, but sometimes I forget how important this cycle is to me. I’m an anxious person, but there is something very reassuring about the relentless rolling of the wheel of the year. Hope springs, hope falls. There is hope in every season, and the opportunity to reflect and prepare for what’s to come.
This year as I welcome the transition to Fall and everything that entails, I’d like to be a little more deliberate, and try harder to notice and appreciate all the little ways this season changes me. The transformation is so thorough, I can only describe it as magic. The food I crave, the activities I do, the books and music and movies I seek out — everything is changed for the better.
So this year, I’m going to do my best to document that transformation here, on my website. I’ll share some of the books I am drawn to re-read each Fall, the albums I return to, and the movies that give me that magical feeling. I’ll post some of the photos I take habitually as the light changes and the leaves fall.
I’m calling this thing I’m doing Fall Feels 2024. It will be a lot of work, but my hope is that it will deepen my appreciation for all the ways this magical time of year affects me. In that sense, I’m thinking of it as a kind of long-running ritual observance, a psychological spell that will multiply the power this season already holds over me. I’m not sure what it will look like when all is said and done, but I hope you enjoy coming along for the ride.
