Is there a chill in the air or are you just happy to see me? I don’t know where too look in that thin shirt, darling. Let’s get you out of it.
We have turned the corner to fall here at Place de Plume. Soon those fading leaves will flare into a vibrant display of fiery brilliance until they drop to blanket the back forty. The sarongs and sandals of summer will be packed away and stored; light jackets are grabbed just in case the chill persists past noon. Sounds of laughter ring out from the schoolyards as coffee houses retire their blenders to make space for backup grinders.
The scent of spice permeates everything.
So where does that leave you? It always interests me how unaffected I am by the Chateau’s doors closing after summer. I love to see all the sashes of Place de Plume open as the outside and inside merge into one living space. After the odd martini and subsequent dare, I enjoy being able to strip off whatever meager covering I have donned and finding the nearest body of water to plunge myself into (not to mention the body that dared me subsequently plunging into me.) Summer has many fruits and many pleasures, but autumn brings with it its own set of unique experiences that one realizes, once they are present, how missed they have been.
Summer carries with it the sense of youth; brides and grooms beginning their new lives after summer weddings; babies exploring the world around them, splashing about on patios, making a small corner their own. New love strolling hand in hand in the warmth of a summer breeze guiding them to an ambitious future. Even a lined, withered face turns itself towards the sun to remember how it felt to be young.
Autumn brings with it a sense of weight; couples with shared history sit abreast as they read and warm with sherry. A hand turns a page and drifts to the reader’s side where it finds its mate, patiently waiting to be claimed. Dinners become meatier, requiring more time, allowing for more conversation. Discussions turn from what future plans should be made to reminiscing on adventures already experienced. Stories are shared and compared and ultimately connected. And when the first fire is laid, it beckons for all to gather as the flames perform their chaotic dance, tripping along the logs. Proximity promotes dialogue. All those dreams formed while drifting on a summer’s day brought to light. Don’t fear the passing of the raw summer visions; embrace the sage remembrances of autumn. Not everything need be fresh to be inviting; believe me, he or she is less likely to leave a warm bed for a cold floor… no matter how much their partner is expecting them back.
My point is, darlings, running free is made lovelier by seeing the value of staying still.