On Friday, I could smell it hanging in the morning air. the change in temperature, in intensity. Autumn’s coming. Autumn has a smell, a feel, just like rain does (as Doctor Who taught me, this is petrichor) but I’ve never found the word in English for the smell of a changing season.
Unless you’re in Starbucks, when the smell of autumn is most definitely PSL.
My year is connected to Starbucks because I spent so much time in there and is mostly tied into the latter half of the year with PSL and the Red Cups. This is a happy time of year for me, even as I hate the entire of winter. I could almost feel my Seasonal Affective Disorder waking up, like a snake in my stomach.
But the sunlight, the running of the hounds, helps. Exercise isn’t my favourite thing but I enjoy walking sedately throwing balls for dogs, meeting other walkers and having coffee with Mhairi. This week I think, counting today, we will have free run the dogs three times which must be some kind of record.
They love it and, frankly, so do we.
But autumn means other things; a shift in clothes, layers and my beloved, comfy rust red cardigan. It means thicker skirts and boots, new socks (all black) because I keep losing half of mine, always one foot and never the other.
But, as Shannon reminds me, this is also a time for re-starting work and new projects after the lazy summer days where it’s too hot or nice to work. She was asking me which of the seasons I favour and it’s always been the transitory ones: spring because it means winter is dead and finally buried and autumn because of the colours, the cooler weather and the abundance of blackberries on branches (which Uni loves).
Apparently, though, she loves them only when they’re on said branches or thrown at her. Not delicately placed on a platter for her to nosh on.
Fine, Uni, be awkward.
I find myself reaching for jackets, for shawls and wraps, wondering if I need to invest in some more skirts (I have two winter ones). I wonder when I’ll have to put the heating on, when I need to change the Direct Debit so I don’t go into massive debt over winter. I can feel it coming, whispering on the wind.
Winter is always coming.
This year, though, I’m not going to let it own me.