The flash of autumn and why we need the cold

That time of year has come when the sun goes down at 2:30 in the afternoon. And I mean behind the ridge, not just behind the trees. It will be that way for more than three months. 

Bohemia, despite its romantic implications, can be a dure and colorless place for a good part of the year. Early fall is often dreary, sodden and greenish brown. Late fall is dreary, sodden and brownish gray--all except for those few days when the color changes and the world is yellow, orange and red. 

Despite the decorations at the preschool, this autumn color show is more like an autumn flash. If you blink, you really may well miss it. 

There are two days of brilliant, flax-yellow sun that slants sidewise across the land piercing your eyes and casting long dangling shadows. The nights are cold, thanks to the clear sky. The colors flash on and then--in what seems like moments--off again.

No more bright color until late April. Hope you enjoyed it.

I stretch out this time by pressing a few of the less trampled leaves between books until they dry. Then I tape them to my windows to remind myself and the world outside of that brief autumn flash. The colors of the dried leaves are not the same anyway though. They are deep golden brown and beet purple, not the colors of the flash. 

Still as much as I love the brief autumn flash and wish it lasted longer and as much as I grieve a bit for the light half of the year, I am also ready for the cold and dark.

If our current danger-fraught climate change teaches us nothing else, it should teach us the value of respite and the natural need for both cold and for inactivity. Sure, there are places on the planet where the natural environment has evolved not to need frost. But the planet as a whole hasn't and in our northern climates, the plants, animals and even the human economy needs this time in order to provide sustenance and abundance at other times. 

I need it. I can't imagine continuing the agricultural and outwardly active summer all year round. While I will be sick of it by March, at the moment I welcome the fact that we will soon be inside most of the time, mending, reading, thinking, writing and recuperating. 

And so, hail the autumn flash. I am ready.