Autumn is mostly the season of fall, but it is a season of colours and mesmerising beauty. Golden and crimson hues dominate the scene. Crispy leaves form a carpet. The morning breeze is infused with a novelty that invigorates the soul, and the drops of morning dew shine like pearls on being kissed by the gentle rays of the sun. All around seems a blissful fantasy with a castle in the sky guarding the golden treasure of nature.
“Fall has always been my favourite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale,” wrote Lauren Destefano.
In the English language, calling the season “autumn” first began in the 12th century. But the word was not commonly used until about the 16th century. This is about the same time that people began using the word “fall” to mean autumn. However, even earlier, the season was called “harvest.” Autumn, especially in poetry, has often been associated with melancholia. The famous poet John Keats in his poem “To Autumn”, written in September 1819, echoes this sense of melancholic reflection but also emphasises the lush abundance of the season. The song “Autumn Leaves”, based on the French song “Les Feuilles mortes”, uses the gloomy ambiance of the season and the end of summer as a metaphor for the mood of being separated from a loved one.
The blossomed leaves get old and die in the autumn. They rest in tranquility. Autumn is also a season of harvest. The hard work and the sweat put in by the farmers yields fruit in this season. Poetry apart, autumn is a metaphor of hope. The cold and calm breeze lifts the soul to serenity. It is the season of rest and stardust. Autumn will also fade away. The leaves will continue to rest till the next blossom. The cycle will go on.
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Fida Hussain Sodagar