Autumn is a season for the senses

‘Autumn is a season for the senses.” Those words came from a reader named Marti McClure several years ago and each year I recall them. She was writing to me about how she experiences autumn through her senses.

She says she “feels” autumn, when there is a sharp chill from the north sending a two-way message for the green and growing to slow down and rest.

She “touches” the season when carrying home pumpkins, gourds, bales of hay and mums for decoration, or when guiding small hands in the carving of a jack-o’-lantern.

She “smells and tastes” this season when her kitchen holds the smell of apples, sweet potatoes, pumpkins and pears and the bold spices of autumn. Or when a visit to the farmers’ market takes her to large, barrellike roasters slowing turning the peanuts to a golden, crunchy brown.

She “hears” the season. “Trick-or-Treat” from the voices of children scampering through her neighborhood, high honking of migrating geese and the sound of falling leaves.

McClure believes autumn is meant to bring us to a sudden stop from summer and is a signal to the mind and feet to change gears as we take a break from yards and gardens.

She suggests, “Leave the city and go on a walk in the woods, pick out a tree, sit close to it and count the leaves as they fall.”

Always for me, Autumn reminds me of the cycle of life — a beginning, a middle and an end. And while the end of life will bring some sadness, I always remember a line from a poem that one of my daughters wrote in elementary school: “God makes even the dying time of the world beautiful.”

And so it is.

Charlotte Lankard is a licensed marriage and family therapist in private practice. Contact her at clankard@ opubco.com.