even the leaves fall for you
When I was seventeen years old, autumn came like every other year. The air was slightly cooler, the leaves slightly crisper, and the heart slightly nostalgic. With it came a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks, with “even the leaves fall for you” scrawled in boy’s handwriting across the white of the cup. My love interest at the time was the non-committed type who played guitar very badly, occasionally plagiarized poetry, and loved the sound of his own voice.
At the time, my heart melted with all the warmth my gold and maroon Gryffindor scarf and woolen cardigan could muster. Several years and a few tumblr searches later, I now know that he wasn’t the first to pen those words. Nonetheless, I am reminded of that day whenever a gust of wind blows a brightly coloured leaf in my direction.
Corny quotations aside, there is something inexplicably charming about autumn. Like all other seasons, it’s the careful combination of scents, sounds, and scenery that evoke an entire spectrum of emotions. It’s the soundtrack of crunchy leaves and indie music, the aroma of drinks with floating marshmallows and sprinkled cinnamon, the strange satisfaction of sunny days and cold nights. I can finally pull out my oversized flannel shirts, I feel a curious desire to watch either Annie Hall or The Graduate and “I Can’t help Falling in Love With You” plays on repeat for a startling number of hours as I do my readings for school.
There’s something about autumn that fills you with an inner peace touched by a kind of longing. Longing for the past, for memories close enough to touch, but not quite close enough to hold. Longing for warm hugs and a shoulder to rest your head as you read those books and watch those films. Longing for inspiration, comfort, warmth, beauty, romance, melancholy, childhood and serenity. Longing for the ability to take a mental photograph of the stunningly beautiful images of the leaves all red and gold around you. But before any of these things can materialize into anything beyond the wanderings of a mind already tired by school, it’s all erased by the first snowfall of the year.