I love Fall. But doesn't it seem like the shortest of all of the seasons? Maybe Rhode Island's Fall will feel longer, since I haven't been surrounded by this many trees since I lived in Ohio. I'm most affected by the smell of fall (smell is supposedly the strongest memory trigger of all of our senses). Every year, the smell of fall reminds me of my sophomore year of college at Wittenberg University. Sophomore year was big for me. I was depressed and had decided to transfer out, but the smell of fall triggers nostalgia for me. I lived in Myers Hall on Wittenberg's campus, planted atop a huge hill overlooking the rest of campus. The dorm even had a rumored ghost-horse. The building was once a military hospital, wherein a fatally wounded captain had his horse brought upstairs to his deathbed but that had to be killed once the captain died, since horses can't walk down stairs.
My first year, I lived on that 5th floor, but never heard the horse running the long hallway at night. Mid-year I moved down to a single at the end of the second floor (my people-skills were rough) and for my second year, I lived just to the right of the front steps, in the second floor quad (even thought my people-skills still needed work). I spent many nights sitting on the front steps looking down across campus, often with good friends who helped me through that very difficult year. I don't even think they realized they were taking care of me that year.
Literally, the smell of fall is the smell of leaves dying. I don't find this morbid, but instead, see it as a parallel to the fact that the moments or days in our life are constantly passing away. We don't get them back. And once a year, when the leaves give us a send off with that cool fall smell, we get contemplative. Seems perfectly and naturally appropriate to me.
So I'm hoping to spend some time outside this fall -- to enjoy my favorite season, even if its usually a mini-season. Maybe apple-picking?
My first year, I lived on that 5th floor, but never heard the horse running the long hallway at night. Mid-year I moved down to a single at the end of the second floor (my people-skills were rough) and for my second year, I lived just to the right of the front steps, in the second floor quad (even thought my people-skills still needed work). I spent many nights sitting on the front steps looking down across campus, often with good friends who helped me through that very difficult year. I don't even think they realized they were taking care of me that year.
Literally, the smell of fall is the smell of leaves dying. I don't find this morbid, but instead, see it as a parallel to the fact that the moments or days in our life are constantly passing away. We don't get them back. And once a year, when the leaves give us a send off with that cool fall smell, we get contemplative. Seems perfectly and naturally appropriate to me.
So I'm hoping to spend some time outside this fall -- to enjoy my favorite season, even if its usually a mini-season. Maybe apple-picking?
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