A Sideways Glare at Contemporary Society
I’ve already said I hate summer, so chances are good I’m on Satan’s shortlist of souls he’d like to meet and greet — permanently. Hating summer is like seeing an ugly baby and then actually saying it : everybody kinda agrees with you, but nobody’s on your side. However, as the man said, “If you’re going to Hell anyway, you might as well just keep driving.” So summer might not actually suck — all the time — but here are 5 reasons why I prefer autumn.
Autumn is active — When summer is over, you can actually do things again — like walking down the street or standing waiting for a bus — without feeling like a tributary of the Amazon is flowing down the back of your shirt and into your underwear.
Autumn is cozy — There is nothing better than a fuzzy sweater on a chilly evening. And is there anybody in this world who doesn’t like fat, warm socks? These are two of life’s priceless little pleasures that release tons of endorphins. Unfortunately, they’re not available to us when the temperature is 36 degrees in the shade — and there ain’t no shade. It is my considered opinion that the lack of fuzzy sweaters and fat socks is why people in desert countries are so grouchy all the time.
Autumn moves — Summer doesn’t move. It just lies on you like a Hot Fudge Quilt. Autumn, on the other hand, lives on the breeze. You can taste it in the early morning, fresh as that first cup of coffee. It plays in the trees like Peter Pan having a giggle. It swirls and twirls tiny tornados of leaves at your feet, teases your hair like a casual lover and sends you to bed with an extra blanket tucked up to your chin.
Autumn is made of soup — There is only so much cremated cow a man can stand. Autumn is the time for great cauldrons of things that sound and bubble and fill up the house with steam and smell and plenty; served in great bowls with bread or in a thick mug, balanced just right between you and your book.
Autumn is serious — When the temperature starts to drop in the Northern Hemisphere, we all have this weird cultural memory that “Winter is Coming” and it’s going to try to kill us. We don’t lay in stocks of food and firewood anymore, but we do subconsciously put away the toys of summer and assemble our tools. That’s why God made “Back to School” sales.
It might still be three weeks until Autumn is “officially” here, but Mother Nature and I always start early — right after Labour Day. And I can see it from here.