New Year’s Fall
Don’t tell Yankee Candle I said this, or whomever you get your huge, seasonal candles from, but there is truly no way to capture what the changing of the seasons smells like. Take Fall for example. There are symptomatic scents for sure: pumpkin baked goods, apple cider, and maybe dirty leaves. But the smell of the air that first 59-degree morning does not smell anything like pumpkin apple cider leaves. If we reference the autumn encyclopedia, which is Nora Ephron’s “You’ve Got Mail,” it states Fall as more of an essence as a whole. A time of year when it feels like back to school shopping and there is a strong urge to send a stranger a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils.
I use Fall as a hypothetical example here, for convenience, because as much as I would love to talk about the smell of winter snow slush melting into flowers, it’s really the smell of back to school I would like to preach about. This morning was the first chilly morning of the year. It’s August 31st which is a logical time for a Fall teaser. The experience that begins with the slight breeze and inexplicable smell, is a trigger for all memories and sensations that are affiliated with this exact stirring of the senses. Whereas, the smell of hot asphalt and sunscreen conjures a feeling of summer joy, the early sunsets, buzz of cicadas, and chilly legs bring a feeling of sentimentality and bittersweet.
Here is a listicle (what a great, great word) of what I associate with this complex concept that is Fall:
Soccer practice is back. Evening feels like evening again. Instead of fireflies coming out, the sky just gets dark. I lost some foot skills over the summer but feel them coming back by the end of the friendly scrimmage.
Teachers are new. I figured out my teachers last school year. Some were tough, some were sweet, some were not as smart as I thought they should be. This new lot is unknown to me.
Figuring out a new routine. How much homework am I really going to have? Which buildings are my classes in and how far apart are they? When can I fit in a run? When can I get into the practice rooms? It is going to take me until October, at least, to figure all of this out.
Marching band is early. The mornings are chilly in the stadium. It is key to keep the trumpet mouthpiece inside of a pocket so as to not shock the warm lips. Was it me who volunteered to bring donuts to sectionals?
I am a year older. It used to be me who was the second grader or the seventh grader or the sophomore. Now, I have been replaced. Will the one in my place do better than I did? Will I do as well during this older year as those of whom I have taken the place? I am getting closer to college, and that feels sad.
My sister is a year older. Will we still get along? Will we still have things in common?
The GAP. A new year means new jeans! I surely have grown since last Fall and it is time for a fall shopping spree. My mom loads my sister and I into the Jeep and we listen to Martina McBride on the way to the GAP. After a bowl of soup at Nordstrom, we bring our new findings home and give a fashion show to my dad.
Fall activities. Apple picking, pumpkin patch, The Great Pumpkin, Halloween costume. Should I find a group costume or do my own thing? The parents of the kids I babysit continuously offer me the candy that belongs to their kids, and something feels shady about that. Scary movies are absolutely not my thing!
My birthday. It is almost time to think about my birthday. Should I have a party? If I invite Sidney, I should invite Gillian, even though we aren’t that close. Maybe a party is just too much trouble. Cannot wait for birthday cake!!
Pumpkin. I really, really do love pumpkin flavored things. Not to reduce this two to three month span to a flavor, but YUM.
Chili. Fall means football and football means chili and I LOVE chili.
Jazz. Walking through a farmer’s market, buying almost nothing because I have no idea where to start, and listening to jazz. This is nice.
These are just a small collection of mixed emotions that come rushing when the sun starts to set at 7:37pm. It is the feeling of the end of an era, mixed with anxiety about what lies ahead, and a dash of excitement regarding what the next set of seasons will bring.
August 31st is New Year’s Eve. I will not embrace the fiscal year as my calendar, and you cannot make me. School Year will forever be my preferred design. Instead of transitioning from December winter to January winter, you get to live an amazing summer full of long days and beaches, wrap that up, say thank you, and at the strike of midnight, dive into cozy sweaters and hot coffee. In ways, making resolutions in late August makes more sense. Fall handles the role of bad cop so perfectly by ever so sweetly ushering in the feeling of, “It’s time to get back to business.” So, Happy Freaking New Year! Put on a sweater, put some pumpkin in the oven, have a cup of hot apple cider, sniff some leaves, and then go watch Meg Ryan flirt with Tom Hanks over email.