The season of fall might be like the hobby of gardening in that you need to be a bit older to appreciate it. As a kid I enjoyed jumping in leaves and playing football on blustery days, but back then I don’t know if I had a conscious gratitude for the quiet space before winter. As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to enjoy more things autumnal. So on a cool, damp October morning, here are some thoughts on the calendar’s third season.
Fall is the the traditional time of harvest and named for “fall of the year” or “fall of the leaves.” The word “autumn” has murkier word origins and is more widely used in England than America. While the two words are largely interchangeable, “Autumn” is a much better girls name and “Fall” really completes the “Spring Forward, Fall Back,” daylight savings time mantra. For my purposes, I’m going use the word “fall” since I think it’s more evocative.
Cloudy 60% of the year, Syracuse, NY is not going to be confused with one of the more climatically pleasant places in the country. However, when it comes to fall, Central New York is spectacular. To give you some idea, picture yourself playing soccer with Mr. Keating in Dead Poets Society. Behind you is a beautiful tapestry of red, orange, and yellow leaves draped on a sturdy foundation oak and maple trees. The days are getting shorter and there’s a chill in the air. You’re thankful for the warmth of your Welton Academy sweatshirt and you can see your breath as the sun starts to fade behind the tree line.
OK…so I just rewatched this soccer scene and turns out the leaves have already fallen off the trees. Still, it’s a great image of fall. By the way, I also read a “20 Classic Fall Movies” article and Dead Poets Society, When Harry Met Sally, Scent of Woman, and Rudy were all on the list. Clearly the late 80s/early 90s was the peak of autumn American film making. Additionally, Dead Poets Society was supposed to take place in Vermont, not New York…but I digress. The point is that the fall I grew up with was filled with leaf piles, apple orchards, donuts & cider, hayrides, football games, neatly organized trapper keepers, cool evenings with beautiful skies and various plaid things.
In 2005, we moved to Southern California and no longer needed the warmer sections of the LL Bean catalog. For those of us who have transplanted from elsewhere, the change of seasons in San Diego is somewhat indiscernible. There are beach days in January as well as July. You can “polar bear plunge” in the Pacific just like you can in the Atlantic, but the air temperature is 62º not 37º. There’s some foliage color change to observe in the fall, but the palm trees stay largely unchanged.
The fall temperature does dip here after sunset through the early morning, but it can also reach the mid 80s for a 1pm soccer game. Our soccer league has been known to send out “heat advisory” e-mails in September in October, reminding coaches to have their players hydrate and “take a shade break” if they get too overheated. The serious tone of these e-mails would suggest that we play soccer in some extreme desert wasteland. What would the AYSO soccer leagues in Las Vegas and Phoenix think? We’re delicate flowers here in San Diego–can’t be too warm, can’t be too cool.
Regardless of your politics on global warming, it does seem like the “summer” weather is shifting a few months later. Combined that with the Southern California May Gray and June Gloom, the fall months can be the sunniest and hottest of the year. In my mind, the two big fall holidays–Halloween & Thanksgiving–are associated with cold crisp weather. Growing up, we occasionally had snow by October and it was considered advantageous if your Halloween costume could fit over your winter coat. Bulky characters like Incredible Hulk or the Michelin Man would be make good choices; anything with bare arms or bare legs exposed could be considered child abuse.
At times, the warm weather makes it hard to get into the season. Like most families in North County San Diego, we’ve made the necessary pilgrimages to Bates Nut Farm. As the calendar turns to October, we’ve taken the kids, and sometimes grandparents, out to Valley Center for pumpkins, corn mazes, and hay rides. And most years, our visit is usually accompanied by the obscenely warm weather. I remember one particularly hot year with heavy Santa Ana winds. As we lugged the kids and pumpkins back to the car sweaty and tired, my mother-in-law suggested we get a pumpkin-spice latte to commemorate the season. At that very moment in time, something about a scalding hot beverage with cinnamon and nutmeg wasn’t what I was craving.
On our honeymoon in Kauai, Jenni and I stopped into a very cool photo gallery and talked to the owners. They were very excited about their upcoming trip to New England to the experience the “leaves changing color.” Upon hearing this, I almost spit out my POG juice out onto a picture of the Nā Pali Coast. Here we were in one of the most beautiful places in the world and these folks wanted to take a vacation to go see decreased chlorophyl production! Don’t get me wrong–I did start this article by talking about the majestic beauty of fall where I grew up. But you live in Hawaii!? That would be like someone who lives near the Sistine Chapel wanting to find a nice acoustic ceiling to look at.
It just goes to show that the unfamiliar is exotic and the everyday becomes mundane. There were fall things I took granted and I wish I could go back and appreciate them. Apple picking comes to mind. The apple orchards I remember are cinematic in scope–rows and rows of solemn apple trees–like you’d picture in Cider House Rules. When we took the kids apple picking in Julian, it just made me sad. (Although I will say the Apple Mountain Berry pie is absolutely delicious.)
The flip side of this regret is making sure to appreciate the Southern California fall. New York is known for die hard sports fans, but there’s always Jets & Giants tickets available for early December games. Could it be that sitting in the Meadowlands and drinking beer when it’s in the low 40s isn’t that appealing? Not a problem for San Diego Los Angeles Chargers fans–shorts and flip flops are still appropriate compliments to your Philip Rivers jersey. Thanksgiving at the beach? I’m sure if the Pilgrims wore less restrictive clothing, they would have loved surfing and beach volleyball. And who needs jumping in piles of leaves? It takes a lot of work to rake the yard and I hear it may not be environmentally friendly.
So put on a sweater (at least until mid-morning) and pick up some pumpkin-spice carne asada. Enjoy the beauty and splendor of the harvest season. Get outdoors while you still can. Soon winter will be coming to San Diego and we all know how harsh that season can be.
