When it comes to the seasons of the year, which is your favorite? I suppose the definition of seasons really depends on where you live because they can differ from one place to another. I’m really referring to the four different seasons that we are used to in the southern parts of the United States. When you think of Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, which one stands out as your favorite time of year? I can’t help but think of Fall – as long as there are not any major hurricane threats – as being the best time of the year for me for a number of reasons.
After a long hot Summer with warm temperatures and little rain in most cases, the temperatures begin to cool and the vegetation all around us begins to undergo a change. This change is what makes the leaves on the trees change color, providing us with amazing picture opportunities because of the brilliant array of colors that the dying leaves have taken on. There couldn’t be a better scene than the one you get from rolling hills covered with trees with brightly colored leaves. The smells from the harvesting of crops, the changing colors and smells of forest vegetation, and the sounds of falling leaves and whipping winds all combine to provide the feeling of home and comfort.
One of the main reasons that the Fall season stands out to me is because of the exciting opportunities for outdoor activity that exist during this time of year. Fall means that football season has arrived and all the good things that come with it are here. And thanks to the age of technology, if you can’t get to a stadium, there is a game on TV almost every night of the week, and if there isn’t, you can do what I do and playback the one you watched last weekend.
With the changing of the temperatures in the Fall from warm to cool comes the desire to cook tasty meals for your family out on the grill – another reason the Fall season is so great – because all of the meals that you love to cook on cool days now sound so much better because of the changing weather outside. Meals just seem to taste better when you can still smell the charcoal in the air and your nose is red from spending time outside.
With all of the beautiful colors and scenery comes the perfect picture taking opportunities for those who love the art of photography. There are numerous possibilities and my favorite is to ride down and take pictures of just about any road side in southwest Georgia – enhanced by the breath taking colors that are produced during this time of year by the golden rod, black and brown-eyed susans and that purple spire stuff.
The numerous reasons mentioned, such as football, the brilliant colors, the wonderful smells, and the excellent outdoor opportunities, are just a few reasons why I prefer the Fall season over the others. It is during this time that everything outside seems to come to life, even though, in reality, the opposite of coming alive is occurring. Your favorite may be different, which is perfectly fine. In the end it comes down to personal preference and what makes you happy.
And what makes me happy is walking outside early in the morning and feeling that Fall has arrived and knowing that my absolutely favorite time of year, Christmas, is right around the corner.
On the shortest day of this year, Monday, September 23, the Autumnal Equinox will officially arrive. Make plans to have your happiest Fall season yet.
Comments and Impressions are welcomed and requested at [email protected]
As a tribute to the much anticipated arrival of all things cooler, here’s one of my favorite poems about my most favorite season . . .
Autumn, aka Fall
By John Clare
The thistledown’s flying, though the winds are all still,
On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,
The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;
Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot.
The ground parched and cracked is like overbaked bread,
The greensward all wracked is, bents dried up and dead.
The fallow fields glitter like water indeed,
And gossamers twitter, flung from weed unto weed.
Hill-tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,
And the rivers we’re eying burn to gold as they run;
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.