Autumnal Mood

Ah, October! Hot pumpkin spice lattes, warm blankets, cardigan weather, falling leaves and everything orange! It is hard not to get in the Autumn mood especially if you live in England as I currently do - for is there a country that brings more fall feelings then the ultimate rainy state?

"It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life. The rich colours of grass and earth were intensified by the mellow light of a sun almost warm enough for spring..."

- A Taste of Death, P.D. James

Some  see in Autumn, much like in Spring, the beginning of a new life. 'Crisp' is what comes to mind to many of us when describing this beautiful season:

"Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall."

- The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The Morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple."

-  Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J.K.Rowling

...Then there is Hemingway, whose vision is a bit more different, but immensely beautiful:

“You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason.” 

- A Moveable Feast, Ernest Hemingway

However, it seems like Autumn is one of the most inspiring seasons when it comes to period drama (which is why, I thoroughly recommend some classic English period pieces as the perfect fall reads):

"I am so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."

- Anne of Green Gables, L.M. Montgomery

“There was a filmy veil of soft dull mist obscuring, but not hiding, all objects, giving them a lilac hue, for the sun had not yet fully set; a robin was singing ... The leaves were more gorgeous than ever; the first touch of frost would lay them all low to the ground. Already one or two kept constantly floating down, amber and golden in the low slanting sun-rays.” 

- North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell

"Her pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn - that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness - that season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling."

- Persuasion, Jane Austen

...Speaking of poetry:

I Remember You As You Were

 I remember you as you were in the last autumn.

You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

Clasping my arms like a climbing plant

the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.

Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.

Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.

I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:

Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house

Towards which my deep longings migrated

And my kisses fell, happy as embers.

Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:

Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!

Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.

Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.

 Pablo Neruda