Throughout the cold, bitter evenings of January and February, I'd like to pull out these glimpses of autumn that I'm striving to commit to memory. Among these glimpses are an abundance of apples piled high on the counter, all of different sizes, shades and scents. The rustle of familiar pages as I return to a favorite read. The comfort of large sweaters sitting on my shoulders as the weather delivers a chilly draft. The delicious smell of disturbed leaves as I trek across countless trails and yards. Reminiscent flavours of cinnamon, chocolate and pumpkin. The feel of worn-out fuzzy socks sliding on elegant hardwood floors. A pot of stew growing warm on the stove, sending its aroma to every corner of the house.

During the fall, this dear old home becomes a place of prosperity and warmth on cool evenings. While sunlight bathes the walls of our living room, it is the place for deep thoughts and hot breakfasts on the sofa. After darkness has fallen outside the large windows, the room doubles as a cozy haven for reading until midnight, knitting or drinking tea.

Of course, the indoors is no match for the outdoors in this season. Why miss the chance to pounce on satisfyingly crunchy leaves or lie under skies filled with scurrying clouds? Autumn is rich with wood smoke and dry foliage, so to drink it in is like a great privilege. I thrive during these wonderful months. Everything is fresh in a way much different than summer, but just as beautiful, if not more.


  1. Your words make me feel warm and autumn-y. Beautiful. xo

    p.s. I just recently read the Great Gatsby and absolutely wholeheartedly fell in love with it.