As another summer has come and gone, fall is now at our door bringing with it a change of season and a new pace of life. The days are slowly getting shorter with the warm glow of the autumn sun setting earlier and rising later with each passing week. A calmness seeps into our bones, as if to prepare us for winter, which patiently awaits us at the next door.
Bidding farewell to Labor Day and summer’s last offering of hot weather in September, every year I anxiously await for fall to arrive with the cool air of October. The time of year when the temperature starts to fall and the warmth of your breath steams the crisp morning air. Sweaters and boots are newly pulled from the closet. Tart apples are freshly picked from trees and pumpkins dress meadows in brilliant shades of orange before being carved into glowing jack-o-lanterns. It is the time of year for fall harvest, Oktoberfest and when that soft light casts shadows against rustling leaves dancing in circles on the ground. Autumn is nature’s blanket covered in a patchwork of vibrant colored leaves and warming us with golden autumnal hues.
Growing up in Vermont, I was blessed with autumns to dream about; the season filled with maple trees and poplars, the countryside was a kaleidoscope of red, orange, yellow and brown. Perhaps this is the reason that I cherish this season, the nostalgia of home and of Vermont? Maybe, but I do know that for as long as I can remember this has always been my favorite time of year. I find peace in the fall. It is a time of transition and of change, but more so a time of calm. The warmness radiated by the colors and the softer light, there is a serenity that I feel with the changing of the landscape, knowing that sleepy winter will soon follow. It is the wisdom of Mother Nature telling all that this is a time of repose between her two extremes of summer and winter.
We are now in November and fall has arrived in Provence. The light and shadows are gently shifting through the windows and the big leaves of the plane tree are blanketing the yard in tones of yellow and brown. The foliage in Provence has been quietly alive, softly dusting the sage colored countryside with pops of gold, orange and crimson red. The season is no more apparent than on the grape vines which have come alive once again in a new aura of autumnal colors. The scent of chimney smoke has begun to fill the air and soon truffle hunting will commence. Much like the season of Autumn, Provence is picturesque, mellow and soft. To me, always, still the very best season of all...